Various Ideas
by meja9201
Summary: An archive for some Worm ideas (some x-overs). Warning: all contents are likely to be cliche, done a million times far better, poorly written, poorly thought out, and/or otherwise terrible. Probably best that you consider all of this alternate universe for Worm.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This little blurb is the result of reading some work by Darth Marrs (look him up - he's an incredible author). I don't think I'm misrepresenting DM when I say that in his stories he makes the very good case that the turbo lasers on a typical Star Destroyer are world breakingly powerful. This made me wonder how a Star Destroyer may deal with an Endbringer attack. What's below is the result of those thoughts.

(The first text in italics is taken verbatim from Worm Extermination 8.5)

—0000xxxx0000-

 _Two blocks away, Leviathan crashed down into the water._

 _Another lurch of my throat and chest, painful. My mouth opened, water filled my mouth, and my throat locked up to prevent the inhalation of water. I spat the water out, forced it out of my mouth, for all the good it would do._

 _I'd left the fat cape to die like this when the wave was coming. Was this karma?_

 _Something splashed near me. A footstep._

A strong hand grasped the front of my costume and heaved me out of the water, levering me up onto some debris. I sputtered and pulled great heaving breaths of air. My arm and upper body screamed in pain while my legs were terribly silent.

My savior was a man, unmasked. He had sandy hair and a thick but close cropped beard. He wore a strange costume, a brown tunic like shirt with long sleeves belted at his waist by a wide black belt, black pants and knee high brown boots. His belt had several strange devices attached that could only be tinkertech, including a long cylindrical tube that I guessed was a weapon of some kind. He was soaked to the bone like everything else in the driving rain. His eyes were a piercing blue. He wore no armband.

I made to struggle. I needed to move or do something. My armband was long gone, my arm was useless and I couldn't feel my legs. The man must have sensed my distress because he spoke.

"Easy young one," his voice surprisingly calm for a man standing two blocks from an Endbringer, "I fear your fight this day has ended."

I could hardly believe my ears. Who was this fool? Leviathan was near - I could still feel the bugs on him as he had crashed to the ground - we were out in the open and I was unable to move without help.

"Run," I croaked. I was hopeful this stranger would carry me with him but instead of fleeing he looked toward Leviathan and touched a device attached to his ear.

"Captain Lillor do you have a lock on the anomaly?" He paused, obviously listening to a response I was unable to hear.

I could see his eyes tighten in concentration as he listened. After several additional seconds he spoke again.

"Turbo lasers I would think. Set for minimal yield and I will report on effectiveness," he paused again to listen, "Yes, yes I'm clear enough captain, just make sure your gunners have a clean lock, and make sure you keep an eye on the orbiting anomaly as well. If it moves in a hostile manner toward the ship or the planet you are free to engage."

Turbo lasers? Anomaly? What the hell kind of tinker was this guy. He turned to me.

"I'll need you to look away from the creature now young miss. My ship's cannons are very, very bright and I wouldn't want you to damage your eyes."

He turned himself back toward the Endbringer and gestured with a hand. As he did so every cape within a hundred yards of Leviathan was _torn_ away from Leviathan at high speed. I had just enough time to parse his statement and marvel at his apparent telekinesis when searing red streaks shot down from the heavens and _smashed_ Leviathan into the water covered pavement producing a cloud of superheated steam. The ground rumbled and sound waves crashed into me causing intense pain to flair in my injuries. I managed to get my good arm up to cover my eyes. I think I was screaming.

When the spots in my vision cleared I could see the strange man still standing, looking intently at the spot where Leviathan had been just moments ago. The area was filled with steam that was quickly clearing. All I could think was that was minimal yield?

Several tense moments passed. I couldn't move now. I could feel my body getting colder from the brutal numbing water. All I could do was will that Leviathan be destroyed. It would change everything. So when the steam cleared enough that I could see the monster again my heart fell. It was still moving. Severely damaged but still moving. The creature seemed confused.

Pieces of Leviathan were missing. Other parts were so scorched and torn that I couldn't understand how it was still able to move at all, every bug near it has been vaporized. My strange rescuer just looked on in disgust, again he spoke.

"Another salvo if you please Captain."

Seconds later more of the extraordinary bolts rained down on the Leviathan. This time I was able to shield my eyes in time. More rolling thunder in the ground, more steam, and more pain. I think I managed to not scream this time.

When the smoke and steam cleared all that was left was a skeletal, shredded carcass, unmoving.

I must have been staring dumbfounded for some time because I was startled by the man's voice.

"Well done Commander," he paused considering an unheard response, "Yes keep scanning for it and remain at battle stations. Please have the expeditionary forces standing by."

Expeditionary forces? Did this cape have a spaceship up there? Nobody had attempted manned space travel since Sphere. One in two satellites fell victim to the Simurgh… what the hell! I needed a plan, some way to escape this man's hold so I began gathering what meager bugs were still alive. The pounding rain had instantly let up with the demise of the Endbringer so I could at least gather some fliers. He must have again sensed my panic because he turned his eyes back to me.

"As I said, _peace_. I am not your enemy." The stranger said, as if that wasn't the first thing out of any enemies mouth. I could see capes approaching, landing near the corpse of the Leviathan, probably in shock. I wanted to see for myself, to walk over and spit on the grave of the monster but my body wouldn't respond and my vision started to tunnel.

Suddenly I could feel a hand on my face, my actual face. When had I removed my mask? The man's blue eyes filled my vision and the pain floated away. I could see that he was speaking but I could hear nothing over the roaring in my ears. A feeling flooded my body, filling me up. It was warm and comforting and I had vague recollections of feeling this way in the past but then losing something along the way.

The last thing I saw before everything went black were the kind, concerned blue eyes of the stranger looking into my soul.


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: There are some really really good "Taylor gets and internship" stories out there... this isn't one of them. The best Taylor-The-Intern stories I'm aware of are on spacebattles by Hopeful Penguin, Reyemile, and Noelemahc. Those author's deserve your attention._

 _xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

The recruiter did an admirable job. Selling a hospital work study program to students at the worst school in the city was not easy. Not many of the students at Winslow were destined to be nurses or doctors. Before all this, before the locker, I had been one of the elite students, with a scholarship to Arcadia waiting for me. I had been seriously considering medicine as a career. I tried not to think how my life would have been different had I chosen Arcadia over Emma and Winslow. I haphazardly listened while keeping my awareness on the enemies in the classroom. Madison and Julia didn't seem to be paying me much attention today, and none of my other tormentors were in this class.

I shifted my attention back to the presenter when she indicated that participants in the program would spend half the school day at the hospital during the month the program ran and would receive work credit.

I thought about how much better my life would be if I could only spend half the day at Winslow. All the classes with Emma and Sophia were in the afternoon after all. It's possible I could go a month without seeing either of them. It really wasn't a decision at all after that.

I raised my hand when the presenter asked who was interested…

XXXXXXX

The other students and I waited in the atrium of Brockton General for the administrator in charge of the program to arrive. It was a Monday morning and we had all just bussed over from Winslow. We stood in a loose group. There were several upperclassmen and one other sophomore I didn't recognize for which I was grateful. I meant nothing to any of these students as far as I could tell, which was perfect. There was safety in anonymity.

The hospital itself was a dichotomy. Because of my bugs I could see the clear delineation between areas. The public spaces were invariably clean and new - all glass and shiny granite. These areas were huge and canyon-like with gift shops, seating everywhere, and a huge cafeteria containing several restaurants. Meanwhile the employee only areas were less fantastic, sometimes dirty, and generally run down. Thankfully it seemed as if the critical areas were mostly free of bugs. The surgical theaters, the emergency room, the intensive care units were all admirably free of infestations. The less said about the food areas the better.

Precisely at eight o'clock a severe looking woman in a crisp suit marched up to our group introducing herself as Mrs. Carbing. She went on to describe the program and expectations. We would each be assigned to a different department and rotated through over the course of the month. Those who excelled could possibly earn scholarships to Arcadia or Immaculata or possibly even a part time job. I could tell by how she looked at us that she didn't have much faith that any of us were going to be earning any special treatment. I tried not to appear over eager but the opportunity to earn my way out of Winslow and possibly get paid was almost too good to be true. Since the Dockworkers Union had folded Dad and I could really use the money.

She handed us maps with our assignments and the name of the administrator we were to find when we got to our assigned departments. She handed me mine without a word, her eyes glancing at my clothing and shoes with poorly hidden disdain.

I knew I didn't look nice per say. Most of my money went to replacing textbooks and supplies I lost to the bullies in a desperate attempt to keep my grades up. Almost everything I was wearing had come from the salvation army near our house. All the clothing was functional if out of date. I couldn't afford makeup, which sucked because I could definitely use some foundation, blush, and eye shadowing. I kept my hair nice, or as nice as possible with dollar store shampoo, and I felt it was my best feature. Today I had it in a tight braid down my back to keep it out of the way in case I needed to do some kind of physical work.

I looked at the map and made my way toward to 1st floor emergency room. I was a bit apprehensive about being in such a critical department. What happens if there is a serious case and a doctor asks me to do something that I don't know how to do? What if I cost someone their life? I don't know if I could deal with that. Hopefully the doctors or managers or whatever would know better than to do something like that.

Locating the correct place was child's play because of my bugs. Even in a hospital as large as Brockton General I was essentially omnipresent. My habit of tagging every person I could in my range gave me a very good situational awareness and easily let me correlate my location on the map.

I turned down the correct hallway and went through some large double doors into a large triage area. There were at least twenty bays with all of the appropriate emergency equipment. I made my way to a nurses station near the far end of the room, making sure that my hospital ID badge was clearly visible.

There was a nice looking nurse at the station typing furiously and mumbling under his breath at a computer screen. I cleared my throat and he looked up at me with expressive brown eyes. I gathered my courage, social interaction was not my fortay.

"Excuse me. I'm looking for Melody Jakoby, can you help me?" There, I didn't sound like a complete idiot.

Thankfully the nurse seemed nice because he smiled and directed me to a small office that I probably wouldn't have ever noticed had he not pointed it out. I thanked him and made my way over.

As I neared I could see an older woman sitting behind a small cluttered desk. She looked up as I approached the open door and spoke before I could.

"You must be our new intern yes? Miss…?" It was obviously a question.

"Hebert Mam. Taylor Hebert. It's um… nice to meet you Mrs. Jakoby? She nodded at my implied question.

"Yep, Melody Jakoby floor administrator at your service Ms. Hebert. It's nice to see our young people taking an interest in this line of work." She seemed genuine in her enthusiasm.

"Um, sure…" I said, sounding like an idiot to my own ears. "I mean, I'm happy to be here mam." I managed to stutter out.

Melody seemed to find my fumbling humorous based on her smile. I tried not to let it bother me.

"Please, everyone around here calls me Mel, at least to my face." She said with a smile. "I would appreciate if you would as well."

I nodded my agreement. "OK Mel, then it's Taylor."

Her smile became more genuine. "OK Taylor it is then." She said, then looked me over more critically, eyeing my clothes. I self consciously pulled my sleeves down over my bony wrists. Mel paused a minute longer then, "Let's get you kitted out with some scrubs and I'll walk you through what we are going to have you doing. I hope you brought your work ethic."

I was proud that I kept eye contact. "I can hardly wait."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

What followed was several hours of training from Mel on procedures and hygiene. As I suspected, much of the work was essentially janitorial in nature. I would however occasionally be called on to assist the nurses with some patient related tasks. Never, I was told in no uncertain terms, was I to assist a doctor or nurse directly with a patient. Apparently the hospital legal staff would skin Mel alive if they found out she allowed a high school intern to touch an actual patient. Mel shuddered in horror just thinking about it.

I was also now the proud owner of some pink hospital scrubs. After a minor freak out on my part Mel assured me that the hospital was paying for the scrubs as part of the intern program. I have to admit I felt good about looking the same as all the other hospital staff.

I was able to meet many of the staff: Jerry the x-ray tech, Sasha the Phlebotomist, Sara the triage nurse and more. Mel also briefly introduced me to the attending physician Dr. Emily Watson. Dr. Watson was young, probably in her late 20's if I had to guess and had easy good looks. Short brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a button nose without a hint of makeup. I could feel myself getting self conscious just standing near her. She was also very sharp from what Mel told me and ran an extremely tight ship.

After the meet and greet I was assigned some menial tasks with the promise of more interesting work later. It was nearing 1pm when Mel told me to break for lunch. She eyed my Alexandria lunch box and told me there was a small break room I could use since I had brought my lunch from home. I thanked her and made my way over.

Mel had not exaggerated, the break room was small containing only a couple tables, a microwave oven, a sandwich vending machine, and a small refrigerator. It was also occupied.

There was another teenager in the room already. She had claimed the far table and was nibbling some chips while drinking a bottled water and poking at her smartphone. She looked up as I entered showing me a nice face with brown eyes, pale skin with freckles, and very curly borderline frizzy brown hair. She had dark circles under her eyes however making her look like she either just got over an illness or was exhausted. I met her eyes for the briefest of moments before I averted my gaze. She had what looked like a bright white long coat thrown over the chair next to her. She looked too young to be a doctor but maybe she was a medical student? She didn't say anything so I didn't either, figuring she would talk if she wanted to. I was used to the isolation.

I found a seat at the opposite table and prepared my meager lunch. Today's feast consisted of two slices of white bread, yellow mustard, and one slice of bologna. There hadn't been much to pick from, our pantry was basically exhausted for the month. I hadn't seen dad in what felt like forever now since he was so busy looking for work. At any rate, we were running seriously short on food. I was going to have to sneak into dad's room and take some money from his cigar box stash if I couldn't catch up with him soon.

I got up to fill my small plastic glass I always brought from home with water. Water was free so I had learned to bring my own cup. When I turned back around I noticed the girl was looking at my sandwich with something approaching disgust. I tried not to feel self conscious about it. She must have heard me approaching because she shifted her eyes to me, taking in my appearance. I tried not to fidget under her stare, especially when her eyes lingered on my ratty brown, slightly too large shoes. I stood there like an idiot for several seconds, feeling more and more pressure from her gaze, feeling my cheeks heat with shame.

Finally I couldn't take any more, I moved to the table and slammed my cup down, spilling some of the water.

"What!" I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. I had to take bullying at Winslow, but here I could just leave if things got bad! I could feel my swarm become agitated, responding to my emotions.

The girl seemed surprised for a moment and actually jumped in her seat slightly.

"Oh, um, nothing sorry. I didn't mean to stare, it's just, your sandwich looks like it may have spoiled." then she trailed off, seemingly embarrassed for bringing it up.

I looked back at my sandwich, and one edge of the baloney slice was clearly moldy.

"Oh," I said stupidly. How had I not noticed the meat was bad? It was gone to the point that it must have been noticeable when I made it? Puzzling.

I absently poked at the sandwich, Wondering if I could salvage the bread. I hadn't eaten in… I couldn't remember? Must have been yesterday, or the day before.

The girl must have seen my dilemma because she spoke up.

"if you don't have the extra money for a sandwich from the machine I can loan it to you if you want?" She hesitated for brief moment then continued, "I'm generally here on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday so you can pay me back. I'm Amy by the way." she finished in kind of a rush, as if she were as nervous as I was talking to people.

My first reaction was angry indignation. I wasn't a charity case damn it! After a moment, I was was forcibly reminded by my stomach that I'd not had food for some time as it let out a loud growl. I choked down my pride.

"Thanks I guess," I said struggling to meet her eyes. I didn't know what else to say. I fucking suck at social.

"OK, sure," she practically jumped out of her seat heading toward the sandwich machine. "What type do you want? They have tuna salad, ham and cheese, steak…" she trailed off obviously expecting me to chime in. Unfortunately, my stomach chose that moment to cramp.

I bent over and clutched my stomach, waiting for the cramp to pass. I wasn't sure why my hunger pains were becoming painful.

The girl, Amy, looked alarmed. She took a step toward me but I held up a hand.

"I'm fine really," I said flashing her my best smile. "just hungry is all. I think I'd like the tuna salad if you don't mind."

Amy looked as if she wanted to say more than just turned and started feeding money into the machine.

I took a minute to study her more than I had before. She was dressed in ultra nice clothes. Designer, the type of clothes that Emma would love. Her one outfit probably cost more than all the clothes I owned.

I glanced back to the table she was sitting at. She had left what was a very obviously expensive smart phone just laying there like nobody would dare steal it right next to her very expensive looking purse. If this was at Winslow all of her items would have been stolen three times over by now.

It told the story of a very privileged girl. A girl who was probably popular and influential. A girl like Emma. My instincts told me to be cautious.

Shortly, Amy turned back around holding a wrapped up tuna salad sandwich. She held it out to me and I took it gratefully. Amy's hand brushed against my finger ever so slightly as we made the exchange. I thought I saw her flinch ever so slightly. Weird.

After that I just concentrated on the delicious sandwich. When had tuna salad become my favorite food? It was amazing! Amy was talking about some book or something like that, I couldn't really focus that well.

After finishing every single crumb of the sandwich I leaned back in my chair in satisfaction. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so good and full. I actually felt a little light headed. I needed to get the name of the vending company that serviced the machine so I could buy more of their delicious sandwiches!

I heard a throat clear and realized that Amy had said something that I missed entirely. I could feel myself blushing in embarrassment.

"Oh sorry," I said like some socially awkward clown, "I didn't quite catch that, mind repeating?"

Amy looked really concerned, wonder if that was just her default look?

"I said that I don't know if I caught your last name Taylor."

My last name? Why would she want to know that? My insecurities flared but I fought them down. Besides, Amy had just bought me the world's best tuna salad sandwich, I kind of owed her.

"It's Hebert," I said, "and thanks again for the lunch." I figured it was time to make an exit. "I um, probably need to get back to work," I told her. Amy and didn't respond at first and I was halfway through the door when she called out.

"Taylor!" she blurted then seemed at a loss as to what to say. After a brief awkward moment she continued,

"Will you meet me here Wednesday? We could talk more... about stuff... if you want?"

Amy seemed almost as desperate for a friend as I was. I wondered for a moment if she was just wanting me to pay her back for lunch. After reflecting for a moment that seemed unlikely, she was obviously well off if not outright wealthy, so a vending machine sandwich was probably of no consequence to her.

"Um, yeah OK, I can do that." I said, then fled the room.


	3. Chapter 3

_Note: This is probably quite disjointed and or overly dramatic, sorry ahead of time. There are some very alternate universe elements here (characters acting out-of-character etc.) so fair warning._

 _Some kind souls have surprisingly added this collection to their follow or favorite list. I find this astonishing and want to express my sincere gratitude._

 _xxxxxxxxxx_

Crystal Evans fidgeted uncomfortably in front of an ancient, wheezing public computer at the Brockton Bay public library. She read over the email she had composed for what felt like the hundredth time. She felt confident she had the facts summarized correctly and all the right people named but still she hesitated to hit send. She hesitated mostly due to fear - fear that she would be found out somehow and attacked like Taylor, even though she was sending anonymously. Fear that Taylor would hate her more than she probably already did, even though Crystal deserved it. Still, she also had a hot-point of anger bubbling just below the surface. A justified indignation at being used and then discarded that she did her best to nurse into a flame that would give her courage.

Crystal was angry at Emma and Sophia, angry that they involved her in their juvenile pranks, and even more angry that she allowed herself to participate. Angry at herself that she had become involved in something so hurtful, that she had allowed her desires to overcome her compassion, and that Taylor had paid the price for her weaknesses.

It had seemed to good to be true at first.

When Emma had first approached Crystal she had been surprised and then thrilled. Here was the most popular girl in the school talking to her! Emma had sat down across from her at lunch and started up a conversation out of the blue. She had soon been joined by Emma's close friends including Sophia and Madison. The three of them were without a doubt the most popular, most sought after girls in the entire school and they were talking to plain old Crystal!

Emma invited her to join them for lunch and before she knew it she was somehow part of the _in_ group. It was like a switch was thrown and suddenly Crystal was popular. Girls she didn't even know went out of their way to say hello to her, boys who had never given her a second look were suddenly chatting her up before classes and at lunch time. It felt good… Really good.

Still Crystal wasn't stupid, she saw what was going on with Taylor, how Emma and Sophia treated her, abused her at every opportunity and how Taylor just took the abuse as best she could and tried to move along with her day. It was a mystery at school, nobody save perhaps Sophia knew what had happened between Taylor and Emma, but Emma seemed to have a driving need to belittle the other girl. To keep her downtrodden and hurting, to make sure that Taylor knew her place. Crystal wondered why none of the Winslow staff stepped in or why on the few occasions she saw Taylor complain to faculty she was shut down hard. Crystal tried not to think about the other girl much, too busy enjoying her newfound "friends" to concern herself with the loner girl with the bad clothes and cheap glasses.

In hindsight it shouldn't have been a surprise when one day at lunch Emma sat down across from her and announced that she had an amazing prank idea for "Hebert". The idea was that Crystal should pretend to befriend the girl but in reality she would report back to Emma with any tidbit of knowledge they could then use to hurt Hebert, to hurt Taylor.

When Crystal had objected that Taylor would surely have seen her with Emma and her friends, Emma scoffed that Taylor was so out of it most days she doubted that she even noticed what color her own shirt was, let alone who was sitting with who at lunch these days…

So Crystal found herself agreeing with Emma's plan, rather than risk the enmity of the girl, even with a sinking feeling in her belly that felt an awful lot like shame.

Days later Crystal had approached Taylor at her locker and at least tried to start a conversation with the other girl. Crystal thought that perhaps if it were clear that Taylor wasn't interested in befriending her, that she could play it off to Emma and the whole thing would quietly go away. At first Crystal was confident that this is exactly what would happen. Taylor looked haggard, with messy clothes and dark circles under her eyes like she hadn't been sleeping. She had been justifiably wary of her at first, but slowly, over the course of several days Taylor had loosened up slightly and started answering with more than one word answers. It was painfully obvious to Crystal that the girl was desperate for any sort of positive attention, and so they talked.

Crystal found that Taylor was smart, extremely so. Taylor loved literature and that her mother had been an English professor at Brockton U before her death. Crystal could see that the death of her mother had affected Taylor greatly and that she probably still wasn't really recovered. Taylor had a sharp wit, and an ironic sense of humor. Crystal found that she had come to enjoy making the other girl smile her too-wide smile and that she had a nice laugh when she let anyone hear it. As the days passed the shame in Crystal's belly matured into a painful guilt. Taylor was _nice_. Beyond nice really. She bore the daily assault from Emma and Sophia with a kind of stoic determination that Crystal found herself admiring.

On a particular day, Crystal met up with Taylor at the latter's locker and noticed that Taylor had an old, antique flute that she was placing on the top shelf of her locker reverently. When Crystal inquired about it, Taylor simply said that it had belonged to her mother and that it made her feel good to look at it so she had brought it to school to help her through the day.

Crystal burned with shame as to why Taylor would do such a thing.

Unfortunately this same day Emma cornered Crystal in first block, wanting to know if she had found anything out they could use against Taylor. Crystal hadn't really wanted to say anything, but she wasn't keen on disappointing Emma and becoming a target herself so she blurted out about the flute she had saw in Taylor's locker. It seemed harmless enough since it was safely locked away so Crystal didn't see how Emma or Sophia could get at it. The look in Emma's eyes when she learned of the flute should have been a warning.

At lunchtime Crystal had found a seat off to the side away from Emma and her friends. She found herself lost in thought about how to extract herself from this mess with Taylor. She could continue the ruse, try to appease Emma but still maintain her friendship with Taylor, but it would be dishonest. Somehow Crystal did think Taylor would appreciate that kind of deception.

The more thought and reflection Crystal put into her problem, the more clear it became that she couldn't continue with things as they were. She really needed to come clean to Taylor and let the chips fall where they may. She didn't expect the girl to want to remain, well not exactly friends, but she doubted Taylor would take very kindly to knowing that Crystal had started talking to her at the behest of Emma. Still the decision to tell Taylor the truth felt good and right and she resolved to tell her at the next opportunity.

That decision made Crystal felt better than she had in a long while. She was just cleaning up her tray when Taylor ran into the cafeteria, looking completely out of sorts, eyes red like she had been crying, looking around wildly until her eyes settled on Emma who was watching her with a self satisfied smirk that made Crystal's insides freeze.

As soon as she found Emma, Taylor immediately started towards the table where Emma and Sophia were seated. Crystal could see that words were being exchanged and that Taylor was upset judging by her abrupt gesturing. With a sinking feeling Crystal headed over to try and overhear.

When she was close enough she could hear that Taylor was asking Emma, begging really, for the return of her mother's flute. The sinking feeling turned to ice at Taylor's words. Somehow Emma had managed to get Taylor's flute out of her locker, and it was Crystal's fault.

Taylor was becoming more upset by the second. Her pleas becoming more desperate, her body language more frantic. Crystal was shocked, she had never seen Taylor respond to any of the trio's bullying so dramatically. There was absolute desperation in her words.

Emma for her part was playing little miss innocent perfectly, being equal parts condescending and insulting. Insisting that there was no way that Emma or Sophia could have _possibly_ known about the flute, that someone would have had to have _told_ her the flute was there. With this Emma had looked directly at Crystal and smirked. Then proceeded to greet Crystal like an old friend, inviting her over to the table even.

Taylor turned and looked at Crystal, her face blank for several seconds while she worked though things, she was a smart girl after all. Crystal could see the moment the pieces fell into place, Taylor's face morphed into pained disbelief for the briefest of moments then the desperation returned and she turned back to Emma, insisting that she return the flute.

Crystal felt like someone had punched her in the gut. She was sure she was probably pale, she could feel her hands trembling. She wanted to protest, to say it wasn't her or that she had never intended that Emma get the flute. In the end she had said nothing, to afraid and hating herself for her cowardice.

The scene went on for several more painful moments until Emma apparently got bored and asked Taylor if she was going to cry herself to sleep for a week over the flute. That particular insult must have had special meaning to Taylor as her face crumbled and she fled while Emma and her friends jeered. Crystal just felt sick.

For several days afterward Crystal had tried to get Taylor alone to explain but the girl was like smoke and seemed to disappear into thin air whenever Crystal looked for her. After a few days of this Crystal was getting frustrated but didn't see any good options to help Taylor. The faculty was either indifferent or incompetent so there would be no help from them. Most of the other students were either part of Emma's group or in fear of them and not willing to step in.

That's when Crystal remembered that a Ward supposedly went to Winslow. She could contact the Wards. The question was which one?

It was a mystery as to which Ward actually attended Winslow of course. The school did a good job trying to obfuscate when students were transferring in or out, randomly pulling groups of students out of class and never starting new students except in large groups.

Crystal went over the Ward roster in her mind, Aegis, Gallant, Clockblocker for the boys and Shadow Stalker and Vista for the girls. She knew Aegis was the current leader but wasn't known for interacting much with the public. Clockblocker was considered something of a jester that never took anything seriously so probably not a good choice. She didn't know anything about Gallant although just his name suggested he may be a good option. Shadow Stalker was just a stone cold bitch from everything she had heard and read about her, a vigilante turned Ward so that was probably not a good option. That left the youngest Ward, Vista.

She had actually met Vista once at a publicity event at the local mall. She had been there talking to teens about avoiding gangs and talking up the PRT and Protectorate. She remembered that even though Vista was young, probably not quite in high school yet but she had been the most impassioned of the speakers that day. The girl just oozed hero and anyone watching could tell it wasn't an act, that she truly believed in being a hero.

So, Vista it was, but still she hesitated…

"You should send it." A female voice intruded on Crystals thoughts and she looked to her right to see a girl watching her. The girl had blond hair and a dusting of freckles. She was pretty in a general kind of way and was watching Crystal with an intensity she found uncomfortable.

Crystal found her voice. "Umm, What?" Her suspicion flared. Had the other girl been somehow watching as she wrote?

The other girl just shrugged. "Let just say I can tell a lot about people just by watching them… Call it a talent." And she grinned at Crystal in a most disturbing, self satisfied manner.

"Riiight, Ok then. Well maybe you should just mind your own business."

The girl narrowed her eyes just slightly, then seemed to reconsider and just shrugged. "Suit yourself, but you'll feel better and maybe just help someone who needs it. Seems like a win, win situation if you ask me."

Crystal felt herself panic at the girl's words. So she had been watching somehow!

"What the hell you stupid bitch! You've been looking at my screen somehow!"

Any friendliness in the girl's face disappeared and she tilted her head in contemplation. Crystal squirmed under her gaze, feeling like she was being sized up and found wanting.

"Hmm, well aren't you a delicious combination of guilt and cowardice… Too scared to actually do something directly, to guilty to do nothing at all… whatever shall I do with you… Oh and for the record I _really_ don't like being called stupid."

Crystal could feel her face reddening in shame… She knew. Somehow this girl she had never meet knew.

After another awkward moment where the other girl continued to watch Crystal with that strange intensity, the girl rose from her seat, pushing in her chair and stretching like a cat, hands above her head.

"Look, I don't have time to deal with your high school bullshit, but I do know that you owe it to someone to send that email. So show a little courage and hit send. If you don't I may be inclined to involve myself in your business, and believe me when I tell you you don't want that."

With that she swept her bag from the table and turned to leave before stopping and looking over her shoulder at Crystal with a parting comment.

"I'll know if you don't."

And she walked out of the library.

Crystal watched the girl until she was out of sight wondering if that really just happened?

Still, the strange girl had been right, she did owe Taylor, owed her more than she could probably ever repay.

With a final review to make sure all the facts were in order and the right students were named, Crystal took a deep breath and hit send…

xxxxxxxxxx

Missy Biron ran up the chipped and crumbling steps of Winslow high school toward the main entrance doors. With a small application of her power she warped the space around the door, essentially making the top and bottom of the door touch, folding the door in half. It dropped to the ground with a thud opening the way for Missy to get into the building.

She ran into the school skidding to a stop in the atrium and stretched her power out around herself in a testing wave. One of the closely guarded aspects of her power was reconnaissance. Missy was able to identify enemy positions by finding the places her power resisted working due to the Manton limit. In those directions there were always human beings, living human beings. This gave her team a bearing on enemies, or in this case, a victim.

There… up and to her left, maybe 150 yards away was an area her power was refusing to affect. It was small, locker small. Damn, she had hoped that the Barnes girl had been lying or exaggerating, that those _bitches_ couldn't possibly have stuffed a classmate in her own locker and then _left_ her there for what would have been the entire weekend. As it was Taylor had been in the locker for hours already.

Missy activated her comms contacting Dean who she knew was on console tonight.

"Vista to console, I have an emergency situation." She said as she started toward the left stairway, warping the distance so it was only a few steps. "Console come in."

"Vista, we read you." Gallant's voice. "You're supposed to be off duty." Missy could hear the confusion in his voice.

Missy ignored his question. "I need emergency services at Winslow high school, a student has been attacked and stuffed into her locker since this afternoon. I'm attempting to locate her now. Who's on patrol?"

After a short pause Gallant responded. "I copy Vista, emergency services on the way, police as well. Assault and Battery are fifteen minutes from Winslow, Stalker and Clockblocker are enroute as well."

Missy climbed the steps, cresting onto the upper floor of the school all the while keeping her power active, homing in on the position she was unable to warp. It took some concentration to maintain so she almost missed Dean's message about Stalker and Clock… Stalker.

"Gallant! You need to recall Stalker! Do not let her near this school or I'm not going to be responsible for my actions! My information is that she's directly responsible for this situation in her civilian ID. I'm trying to locate the victim now!" Missy tried to keep her voice professional but wasn't sure how successful she was. She couldn't stand Sophia on her best day, and today certainly wasn't her best day.

There was a long pause then, "I hear you Vista, rerouting Stalker and Clock now."

"Thank you Gallant, I'll explain thin... " Missy fell to her knees suddenly dizzy...

Missy collapsed onto her side, distantly she felt her head smack the tile floor. She could see something, spinning above her, so enormous they filled her vision completely. Nothing could be that vast… Blackness...

"Vista! Vista come in!" Was that Gallants voice? He sounded distant to her ears.

"All units, all units Ward down at Winslow high school, emergency response! Ward down! WARD DOWN! Scrambling strike squads, all available Protectorate assets please respond!"

Missy attempted to roll herself onto her back, after two attempts she was successful but immediately regretted it as blinding pain shot through her skull eliciting a low moan from her lips.

"Vista! Can you hear me? Please respond! DAMN IT! VISTA RESPOND!" The note of desperation in his voice actually made Missy smile a little while lying on the ground trying to figure out what happened. There had been something… Something… The thoughts slipped through her mental fingers like water and were gone.

Ignoring the pain in her head, Missy tried to piece together what was going on. She was lying on a cold tile floor in a school hallway with lockers lining the walls. She had been running… Running to help someone, had something to do with lockers…

With a start, her memories snapped back into focus. She was here for Taylor Hebert, Taylor who unless Missy was mistaken had just triggered. Groaning she got to her feet.

"Gallant, I'm back." She said, the pain causing her to clench her teeth.

"Vista! Thank God! What's the situation? Are you under attack?" Missy smiled again at the genuine relief in Dean's voice.

"Negative, no attack. I think our victim just triggered though. I'm going to try and locate the locker they put her in."

Missy could hear the disgust in his voice as he responded. "Roger that Vista. Proceed with caution, new triggers can be dangerous."

"Copy that Gallant but I can't leave her in the locker." Missy said.

"Understood. Assault and Battery are minutes out."

Even though her head felt like it was about to split open, Missy extended her power, looking again for the point she was unable to affect. Instantly she became away of a location down the end of the hall around the corner and started off. She didn't warp this time though as her head didn't feel clear enough. Just as she was rounding the corner she heard a sharp snap-hiss then an explosion rocked her off her feet, slamming her into the lockers behind her. She fell in a heap on the ground her ears ringing and suddenly very cold.

As her vision cleared she could see and feel frost on her costume and that in front of her several lockers were destroyed in a roughly three or four yard area. Not only destroyed but from the look of things frozen as well. And there, in the center of the explosion radius was a girl lying on the ground clearly unconscious and clearly not frozen.

With a grunt Missy struggled to her feet, grit her teeth against the pain now in her chest as well as head, and approached the prone girl with caution, ready to try and dodge back to what would hopefully be outside the range of her… what, freeze attack? As she neared the girl Missy could begin to see some of what she had gone through. She was surrounded by garbage and filth. Taylors head, hands, and knees were all bleeding profusely. The smell got progressively worse as she approached and she had to fight her gag reflex. The scene was something out of a nightmare and pity warred with anger in Missy's belly.

She cautiously circled around until she could see Taylor's face, still keeping her distance incase Taylor lashed out at her.

Taylor's face was a ruin of cuts and bruises. As Missy approached a bug skittered out of Taylor's hair down the side of her face. That shattered what little control of her stomach Missy had left and she turned and retched onto the floor, barely holding herself upright by placing a hand on the wall while she gasped for breath.

A low moan sounded from Taylor.

Instantly, Missy forgot her own discomfort and ran to the girl, gently cradling her bleeding head in her lap, Missy did her best to brush away the insects and garbage. Taylor moaned again and started to cry. It tore at Missy's heart.

"Taylor, Taylor can you hear me?" Missy leaned in, trying to almost whisper in a soothing voice. "Taylor you're safe now." Taylor started to thrash around a little and Missy tried to make soothing sounds while stroking the other girls hair. After a moment the girl calmed and then turned herself into Missy moaning pitifully trying to hug her with weak arms.

It was all Missy could do to reactivate her comms. "G-gallant, I need to you to contact New Wave and request Panacea's assistance. The victim is in a b-bad s-state, multiple injuries, and she's bleeding all over the place! There… they put her in there with garbage, and G-god D-dean... " Now that Missy was here and had Taylor her professional persona broke to the point that she didn't even notice her use of Dean's civilian name . "Why would they do such a t-thing? They tried to kill her… it's horrible." And then Missy started to cry, if only a little.

"I read you Vista, hold tight help is on the way." Dean's voice was gentle, Missy could tell he was trying to be reassuring. "I've already alerted New Wave, Panacea should be standing by at the hospital when you arrive… You did good Missy."

She found she couldn't answer, she just cried a bit more and held Taylor who seemed to have drifted out of consciousness again. Taylor who had been attacked and stuffed into a locker full of garbage in the middle of a school day! For what she wondered? What possible egregious crime could she have committed that justified this?

Time passed and with a surprising suddenness the corridor was full of people. Assault was there, face grim and angry. Battery was there as well, her face filled with compassion and empathy. PRT agents milled around and medical technicians came to take Taylor from her. More personnel pulled her toward her own stretcher but she resisted, asked to ride with Taylor. They acquiesced eventually and she held Taylor's hand the whole way.

More time passed and Missy's thoughts became more clouded and confused while her head hurt worse and her whole body began to throb in time with her heartbeat. She just knew she needed to get Taylor to help. They arrived at the hospital and a team came out to meet them, sweeping Taylor away from the ambulance into the hospital in a rush. Missy noticed that another team was coming out of the hospital heading for the ambulance. This confused her, were there more patients? She turned to look and didn't see anyone else.

She turned back around toward the approaching team and noticed Gallant moving ahead of them toward her at a fast walk, his face lighting up when he saw her. She felt herself smile and the familiar warmth rose up in her chest at the sight of him. The feeling seemed stronger this time, making her feel woozy and weak in the knees. She could see Dean's face fall into a look of concern and now he was running, why was he running? Missy could see his mouth moving but didn't hear any words just a sound like rushing water, and then there was nothing but darkness.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Hello Vista."

That voice... Missy knew that voice… That was Amy's voice. That meant hospital, that meant injuries. The PRT never called Amy in unless there was a real emergency. Missy's memory was fuzzy though on just what had happened.

"I know you're awake Vista." What? How? Oh, Missy felt Amy's hand on her forearm, no doubt giving her a checkup. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

That was the thing about Amy, while she could have a sharp tongue if you caught her at the wrong time she was generally nice and good natured so it was hard to deny her anything. It hadn't always been that way. There was a time a few years ago when it seemed Amy was incredibly unhappy and withdrawn. Missy wasn't sure what had happened, it was all very hush-hush, but there were rumors of master/stranger protocols and secret training sessions. Vicky had left for a while. Missy remembered it being in the papers some. Since that time Panacea had really come out of her shell, becoming something of a social butterfly almost on par with her sister.

With a groan, Missy pried open her eyes, her blue meeting Amy's brown.

"Good girl." Said Amy. "Any nausea or blurred vision?"

Missy blinked her eyes several times to clear the sleep away, reaching a hand up to feel the domino style mask on her face, taking a moment to look around at the hospital room before replying in the negative to which Amy nodded.

"Good. You have a concussion, a pretty bad one. I helped with some of the bruising around your brain but you know I don't go into brains unless it's life or death so you had some residual inflammation which I though may give you problems."

Amy's words brought to mind the events of the previous night.

"Taylor!" she exclaimed in a panic, "Amy what happened to Taylor? Did you heal her? Is she going to be OK?" Missy said in a breathless rush.

Amy's face darkened in anger and she leaned back in her chair. Missy noted she was dressed casually today, just jeans and comfortable top, her brown hair in a pony. "Yes, I healed her. She was… Well she was in a really bad way. In fact without parahuman healing she would have been in serious trouble, she had several _very_ nasty infections and a skull fracture." If anything Amy's face got stormier. "I think the fracture was self inflicted from ramming her head into… Is it true that she was forced into a locker filled with biological waste?"

Sighing Missy leaned back into her pillow, breaking eye contact to stare at the ceiling. "Yes, it's true. All of it. It was, it was terrible, God and the smell and she was in there for hours and nobody helpedherandohgodthebugsand…" Before she knew it Missy was crying again only to find herself in a tight hug from Amy.

"Oh honey I'm so sorry I brought it up! I should have known better!"

Missy just nodded into Amy's shoulder not trusting herself to speak. The two stayed like that for several minutes, each clinging to the other for comfort. Eventually Missy pulled herself together, breaking the hug with a sigh.

"I think I need to make a report, Armsmaster needs to know what Stalker has been up to at Winslow, I doubt Taylor is her only victim."

Amy gasped. "Stalker? Shadow Stalker? SHADOW STALKER DID THIS!"

Missy was truly taken aback by the vitriol in Amy's voice. It surprised her for a moment but then Missy couldn't recall ever seeing her after treating a victim who was tortured like Taylor had been. After a moment's contemplation Missy decided that it made sense that Amy would be so offended by a hero taking advantage of her situation like Stalker apparently had. New Wave was all about parahuman accountability. Amy actually got up and started pacing the room in her anger, ranting about what she would do when she saw her again. After a minute or two, a nurse poked her head in the room to see what the commotion was about. A slightly pink in the face Amy apologized and calmed herself down.

Uggg, that's so infuriating!" Amy said, throwing herself down in the chair by the bed. "I knew Stalker was a bitch but I didn't realize she was a psychopath as well."

"Yeah." Missy agreed in a small voice, thinking of all the patrols she had done with Stalker and how just plain unpleasant Sophia was to her and all the other Wards. She could only imagine what she had been like to Taylor. This revelation was going to tear the team up. All of them would feel as guilty as Missy did for not seeing how deranged Sophia was.

"I guess I better find my phone and call Armsmaster then." Missy said with a sigh.

"That won't be necessary." Said a pleasant masculine voice from the doorway as Armsmaster knocked on the now open door. "As you can see I'm already here."

Both girls turned their heads toward the door. Missy only just managed to not roll her eyes at her boss. How a man in power armor managed to move that quietly was a mystery to her.

"What can you tell me about Stalker Sir?" Straight to the point always worked best with the Tinker. Missy knew he appreciated efficient conversation.

Armsmaster stiffened then began talking in what Missy always called his "report" voice taking a step into the room and then closing and locking the door behind him.

"At 8:14 pm yesterday evening you called an emergency into console reporting that you were attempting to rescue the student Taylor Hebert, who you suspected had been imprisoned in her school locker. At 8:17pm Gallant reported a Ward down emergency due to the fact that he lost contact with you and enacted failsafe protocols, namely calling in the PRT strike squads and reserve Protectorate heros to the scene."

With this Armsmaster paused for a moment evidently gathering his thoughts, He reached up and removed his helmet, scratching at his beard absently. Missy was struck, like she always was, at just how handsome Colin was. It was something of a running joke that if he had any social skills at all he would have female suitors lined up trying to capture his heart. The man never seemed to leave the Rig and Dragon was apparently the only girl for him. But damn if he wasn't easy on the eyes and she had to hold down a small blush as he continued.

"Shortly thereafter at 8:24 pm Gallant was able to reestablish contact with you after you apparently blacked out due to Ms. Hebert triggering in the locker." With this he looked over to Amy raising an eyebrow in obvious question.

Amy sighed, "Yes, she triggered. She has a fully developed Corona Pollentia and Gemma…" She seemed to want to say more then thought better of it.

Colin also sighed and slumped a little. Missy thought she could see the corner of his mouth twitch in irritation.

"At that point you closed distance with the newly triggered parahuman with unknown powers and unknown mental state." There was no mistaking the rebuke in his tone and Missy cringed under his scrutiny. "Said newly triggered parahuman then utilized a powerful freeze explosion power to free herself from the locker. This explosion was the cause of the majority of your injuries at the scene. By all accounts if you had been much closer you would likely have been killed."

He stopped to take a breath.. Missy thought he was probably trying to figure out how to scold her without looking like a jerk for scolding the injured thirteen year old girl. Luckily Amy came to her rescue.

"Colin I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to debrief Missy on her handling of the tactical situation, however we are both very interested to know what happened after Taylor and Missy were taken to the hospital?"

Colin looked at Amy for a moment, probably weighing if he should continue with a critique or let it slide for now. Apparently deciding Amy was correct he continued.

"Of course Panacea." He gestured toward Missy. "Once it was clear that you were out of immediate danger and Ms. Hebert was being suitably cared for, Gallant relayed the information regarding Shadow Stalker's involvement with the incident in her civilian identity. Stalker was immediately ordered back to base and Dragon and I started an investigation into the incident. It didn't take long to find the email that was anonymously sent you, and then follow the same trail you did to the Hebert's home, as well as interviewing Ms. Barnes and Ms. Clements, again much like you did." The rebuke was back in his voice. "You could have come to me Vista. You should have come to me first."

With a tired sigh he lowered himself gently into the chair on the other side of the bed from Amy. This close up Missy could see just how run down the leader of the local Protectorat was, he probably hadn't slept in days. Amy must have come to the same conclusion because she got up and came around to his side of the bed.

"Give me your hand." It was not a request.

"I assure you Panacea I'm perfectly fine. All health parameters are within acceptable limits."

Amy made a face. "I'll be the judge of that _Colin_."

Missy winced, Amy only used that tone when she was unhappy with someone. Apparently Armsmaster knew this as well because he also winced at the sound of his name. "Really, it fine…"

"Give. Me. Your. Hand." She punctuated each word by poking him in the chest armor.

"I'm, uh, not so s-sure…" He started to stammer… _Armsmaster_ was stammering Missy thought with amazement. It occurred to her that Amy could be _terrifying_ when she wanted to be.

"Colin." A warm female voice reached out from his suit's external speakers. "I think you should listen to Panacea, she's only worried about you after all."

Dragon. Dragon was apparently listening in to the conversation through Armsmasters suit and was agreeing with Amy. Missy could practically see Armsmaster wilt under the combined assault. With an almost petulant "Fine" he removed one armored gauntlet and took Amy's hand.

Amy closed her eyes for a second then opened them wide and looked at Armsmaster incredulously.

"You have got to be kidding me! What have you been taking! There are compounds in your blood I can't even identify! Colin, you could have caused serious damage to yourself."

Missy found it impressive that Armsmaster maintained his professional demeanor.

"Nonsense, the stimulant package is perfectly tailored to me and allows 47.3 hours of top performance before mental degradation sets in. It's been only 37.8 hours since my last sleep cycle, well within parameters."

If Missy could have seen Dragon's face she was sure it would have matched Amy's look of horrified disbelief.

With a sigh Dragon spoke. "Colin, we talked about this. I thought you agreed to put off using that combination until we could test if further?" She sounded hurt.

"We did agree, but the situation changed." He seemed genuinely contrite. "Look, can we talk about this later? I need to return to the Rig and finish my official report. I just thought I owed Vista a visit first."

Missy could hear exasperation in her voice as Dragon responded. "Very well but this isn't over and so help me if you harm yourself I'm coming down from Canada to have words with you!"

Missy actually covered her mouth to keep from giggling. It's not everyday you see your boss, the leader of the local Protectorate branch and one of the best Tinkers in the world get scolded by his girlfriend.

Amy was trying and failing to keep a straight face while still holding his hand.

"OK, well I've purged all the exotic chemicals in your blood but you're probably going to need to urinate soon. I've also repaired some knee damage, improved kidney function and tweaked your metabolism slightly. I'd say you have maybe two hours before you crash so you should head back to base as soon as possible. Dragon, I can count on you to make sure he behaves yes?"

"Of course Panacea. I'll make certain he follows orders."

Armsmaster had a wry grin on his face now, resigned to his fate apparently.

With a nod to the invisible Dragon, Amy released his hand and leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek, surprising the hero.

"You need to take better care Colin." Amy said gently. "You're an honorary New Wave uncle, we need you around. Don't wait so long to come see me next time. That knee had to be painful."

Armsmaster was clearly somewhat taken aback and Missy was convinced she saw a blush on his cheeks as he mumbled his agreement. Amy went back to her seat, winking at Missy as she sat down. It never got old watching Amy boss around the most powerful heroes in the world.

Clearing his throat Armsmaster gathered himself again and continued his narrative.

"Right, we proceed to interview Ms. Hebert's father, who was unaware of the bullying campaign and got his permission to search his daughter's room." His face morphed into a mask of fury at this point. "We found a journal detailing hundreds of incidents of abuse by Hess, Barnes, Clements among others, as well as blatant neglect on the part of the Winslow staff. With Dragon's help we discovered hundreds of abusive and threatening emails sent from various fake accounts. Dragon was able to isolate a good number of them to IP addresses that matched the suspects homes. Many of those messages were needless to say, disturbing."

Shifting slightly in his seat he continued, face still grim.

"We now have Hess in a holding cell and are building a case against her to take to the director who is not happy with this turn of events."

At this point Armsmaster stopped speaking and looked at the floor. Missy could tell he was struggling to say something but she wasn't sure what. After a few moments of contemplation he continued.

"I wanted to thank you Vista. Without your actions we may never have found out about Hess, or at least not until much later. Ms. Hebert triggered, which is an unspeakable tragedy, but even with that she may not have survived if you hadn't found her..."

With that he trailed off into silence. Missy could tell he felt guilty that one of his Wards carried out this horrifying attack. She wasn't sure how to make him feel better though, it was kind of his responsibility wasn't it. She was saved from the awkward moment by Dragon again.

"There will be plenty of time for blame later Colin. For now I think you have an appointment with your bunk. Panacea, Vista, please give my regards to your respective teams."

With that, Armsmaster just nodded his head, put on his helmet, got up and left the room closing the door behind him.

Missy just sat in the silence for several minutes, trying to comprehend everything they had been told. Amy seemed as lost in thought as she was. It didn't seem possible to Missy that nobody had known what was going on a Winslow. There had to be more to the story.

"Amy, I need to you to put your mom in touch with the Heberts. This whole thing stinks to high heaven and I have a feeling Taylor's going to need a lawyer before this is over."

Amy just smirked. "I already called her. She said she would be here directly after court today. If anything she was even more angry than I am, and she doesn't even know the whole story yet. I'm looking forward to turning her loose on Winslow."

Missy laid back again. "Thanks."

After a few minutes more of quiet contemplation Missy threw the covers off and got out of bed, looking around for her costume.

"Where are you going?" Asked Amy.

"I'm going to talk to Taylor."


	4. Chapter 4 Sorceress 1

_Note: Who likes an overpowered Taylor story? This guy, that's who. I think I came up with this after reading Acceleration by Chibipoe over on spacebattles for the tenth time... Or maybe Hope Through Overwhelming Firepower by Border42. At any rate I like stories where Taylor makes things explode with extreme prejudice. This is my attempt at such. (virtual cookies to anyone who recognizes the crossover elements)_

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Dark silence.

An absence of illumination so complete that I very literally could not see my hand held up to my face. Silence so absolute my breathing sounds like a shout in my ears. For some time I thought I must have died in the locker and this was my purgatory, a sensory deprivation so deep I'd never escape. I could feel panic start to set in again, as well as a deep visceral fear that started as a cold burn in my belly and began working its way upward.

I took a breath, then another, and did my best to control my fear. I could move my arms around me freely. There was something solid under my feet. I chanced a plea.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

"C-can anyone hear me?" My voice carries out into the nothing. No echo, no reverberation, the sound just swallowed by the maw of the black.

I stood there, afraid to move. After some time I decided to sit cross legged on the nothingness below me. I'm not sure for how long or short a time. Eventually I laid myself prone on the blackness, I may have slept. Eventually the fear receded and I began to think.

I began to think about my past and the path that lead me to this… place. My thoughts a terrible menagerie of disjointed memories. My mother dying - my father dying along with her, becoming a faint shadow of a man, diminished and shuffling through life. The school ignoring me, allowing Sophia to run roughshod. Madison and her sniping. All the other various hangers on of the trio, punishing me for no other reason than for existing.

But worst was thinking about Emma betraying me and my guilt for still loving her anyway. She was the sister I never had, my best and sometimes only friend growing up. I still didn't understand what had happened or what I had done to make her hate me so. I feared that now I never would.

When the locker had slammed shut, closing me inside with the filth and the loss and a disgusting wretched stench too horrible to name, I had called out to her, to my Emma. I remembered shrieking and crying and begging her to please let me out, to please be my friend again. I had broken then, the overwhelming locker breaking what little was left of myself.

Between my ramblings I thought I heard Emma say something to Sophia, her voice desperate. Sophia's hated voice replying with derision.

"Leave the victim."

Leave the victim.

I felt oddly ambivalent about it now while lying in this all consuming blackness. On one hand I was horrified that I'd most likely been murdered by someone I considered family, and on the other I felt strangely content. The daily abuse had finally come to an end. A poor end, but an end nonetheless. Emma and Sophia and Madison couldn't hurt me any longer if I just stayed here in this darkness. The idea had some appeal to me and for a while I thought I'd decided that was exactly what I would do, just stay here in this comfortable darkness, away from those who would hurt me.

Then I thought about my Dad, and how my being gone would hurt him even worse than mom's death had. I thought about Emma and how I'd never get the answers to what happened to change my sister into that terrible stranger. I thought about the unjustness of Sophia getting away with all her abuse. Mostly I thought about how I wasn't ready to die, to fade into the night and leave the world. I wished then, wished with every fiber of my being that I could make a difference, make the world better somehow, even if only in a small way. I could feel the tear tracks on my cheeks as I cried.

And then.

" _Hello child."_

The voice was amazing, an angelic sound. It was a woman's voice but it was as if a thousand of the most beautiful voices imaginable had merged to create something magnificent. It was my mother's voice when I was sad growing up, it was Emma's voice as she defended me from the middle school girls who made fun of my clothes or glasses, it was the sound of comfort and safety and justice and every good emotion I'd ever had. I couldn't bring myself to speak.

" _Calm young one, calm and peace. I am here to help you, should you allow it."_

I took a shuddering breath.

"Help me?" Even now, in this dark after the locker, I felt incredulous that there was anyone willing to help me. The voice, or the being behind the voice must have sensed my doubt because she spoke again.

" _Yes. I wish to fulfill your desire to help the world. You are in pain child, you have suffered much, and in your suffering you have reached out across the high heavens and summoned me from my sleep. Again, should you allow it, I shall make you strong - strong enough to smite your enemies. None will dare attack you. You will be a force for good in your world."_

Me?

The same me who had been in the locker? The same me who hadn't any worth left, who was so bereft that her own sister placed her in a metal coffin and left her to die?

" _Indeed child. You are not so without value, for only a worthy being could have woke me from my long slumber."_

The voice filled me with calm and warmth, soothing my mind, making my eyelids droop in exhaustion.

" _Now, sleep. Sleep and learn and be well again Taylor Anne Hebert of Earth Bet. For I shall teach you power. Power such that no man or God will stand against you…"_

I slept.

xxxxxxxxxx

I eyed the side of the derelict commercial fishing vessel apprehensively. I found myself deep in the boat graveyard, far from what passed for civilization in Brockton Bay. The steel of the old wreck was painted a dull red and was chipped and faded. Rust blossoms dotted the hull, and the hulk sat half in and half out of the water, listing on its keel. Most anything that could be removed and salvaged for a few pennies had been. Every door missing, every cleat or cable removed until nothing but a skeleton remained, just a carcass rusting in the salt air.

I took a breath and looked at my clenched hand, wondering if I really was crazy. All I need do was attempt call it forth to know if I had lost my mind in the locker or if my hazy recollections were real and possible.

I found myself terrified.

If this turned out to be an elaborate hoax perpetrated on my conscious mind by some psychosis… I didn't know what I would do.

Things were not good.

Not good with dad, not good with school, not good with Emma. This needed to work. I required agency, some power over my own life or I feared I would fade into madness.

A breath, then another, and I slowly extended my right hand, palm out toward my target. I knew what I wanted to do, and could feel it, just under my skin, crawling to get out. With resolve I concentrated for a moment on what I wanted - then slowly pushed.

Nothing happened. The moment drew agonizingly on, the seconds passing with ever growing weight. My hand began to shake and the breath in my lungs became ragged.

I could feel hot tears of frustration on my cheeks but I refused to give in. I pushed, then harder, then still harder until it felt as if my brain would catch fire within my skull. This had to work!

Distantly I heard a sound and realized it was my ragged voice - I was screaming my frustration and anger at the ship that mocked me.

With a final desperate push I felt something give way within me and a power flowed from someplace deep and closeted within my very soul. It rose up wild and thrashing, bursting from within my body. An act of will, and this power flowed out through my outstretched palm.

With a brilliant flash a bolt of pure energy burst into existence in front of my hand and flew unerringly toward the ship's hull. The bolt smashed into the steel with a resounding clang and the entirety of the vessel groaned under the assault. Sparks flew and smoke billowed, and when the air cleared there was a rather large hole blown through the thick steel plating of the wreck.

I crept closer, curiosity defeating apprehension. The edges of the jagged gash I'd created were still glowing orange from the heat of my power. The desiccated interior of the ship had been thoroughly destroyed by the blast as it traveled through, and I could see where my bolt had splashed into the far side of the hull, warping and melting the steel.

I considered the damage. This power, this attack I'd just unleashed, was weak - almost comically so in comparison to some others that I could just feel on the edges of my awareness. It was hard to see them clearly. Something in the locker had jumbled these new memories, things came in and out of focus hovering just out of reach. It was infuriating.

One thing was clear though - the power I'd just used was the least of the myriad powers available to me. The weakest of my powers had just burned its way through several inches of plate steel.

This could cause some rather large issues if I wasn't careful. If my most basic power was still exceedingly lethal, I would need to re-evaluate what role I could play. There were plenty of powerful blasters out there who were heroes, I'd need to study how they operated.

I looked up at the black plume of smoke drifting away on a gentle sea breeze and realized I was standing in the open, unmasked, near a blatant example of parahuman power usage. I needed to leave and quickly.

With another furtive glance at the sky I made my way with all due haste away from the incriminating evidence of my power. I emerged from the haphazard junk yard of ships and boats into the docks. There didn't seem to be anyone around, not even the ever-present homeless population - good luck for me.

I walked to a bus stop that was blocks away, with my hands thrust into my pockets and my dark hair hidden within the deep hood of the sweat shirt I had pilfered from my father's closet for this trip.

The bus ride was uneventful save the two ganger's glaring at each other from opposite ends of the bus. Thankfully that meant that they had no attention to spare for the gangly girl scrunched into a corner seat.

I arrived home near one pm and dad was still at work. It was Saturday, but he almost always worked the weekends these days. I couldn't decide if it was because we truly needed the money or if he just couldn't stand being around me anymore. The look in his eyes most days seemed to suggest the latter. Constant guilt layered upon grief. I looked quite a bit like my mother after all.

Coming in the door I peeled off the hooded sweatshirt, throwing it on the chair we had dedicated as our stand-in coat rack then paced down the hall and up the creaking stairs to my room, closing the door behind me.

My bed was made, my room tidy. I looked at my school bag and thought briefly about pulling out my homework. Instead I moved to my bed, sat on the edge, held out my left hand and pushed.

Orders of magnitude easier now, a fiery orb appeared floating above my hand. The orb had wings made of flame that it slowly flapped as it hovered and the sphere appeared to contain a flame wreathed eye. I felt no heat from this entity and in fact could feel it boosting me, providing a source of strength while fortifying my mind and will.

I stood away from my bed deciding it was time to go for broke. I searched for what I hoped were the proper memories and once again pushed.

Abruptly, I found myself changed. I turned to my full length mirror and the sight that greeted me was shocking.

A spiked gold crown sat upon my head and similarly golden shoulder pauldrons graced my shoulders. A black waistcoat clung to my slim form and a blood red, knee length cape flowed down my back. I wore black breeches with gold straps crisscrossing them and gold knee high boots. Finally incredible gold gauntlets graced my hands and wrists ending in talons that my memories told me would cut the hardest steel. All of the gold was worked with the finest filigree to have the look of many feathers. The detail was exquisite, obviously of the highest caliber.

It was easily the best costume I'd ever seen. My memories were foggy but the name Firebird seemed to percolate up from the depths of my subconscious… an ostentatious name but one I found fitting.

Only a mask was missing and I could feel myself revolting at the thought of hiding behind anonymity. Still, my father had no protections and I wasn't willing to risk the only family I had. Another act of will and a gold feathered domino style mask appeared on my face that perfectly matched the rest of my costume.

I studied my new alter ego. She was tall and proud, confident and intimidating. A stranger.

Slowly a smile grew on my face.

I was going to be a hero.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

But first I needed to contend with school.

Winslow was a hell hole and I was honestly not sure why I even bothered to continue to attend. Some sense of stubbornness and an unwillingness to lose to my tormentors I suppose.

Predictably the day did not go well.

Fruit juice was sticky and stung the eyes quite a bit I found as I looked at myself in the mirror at home as I attempted to clean myself off. My three tormentors were lucky to be alive after finding me in the bathroom during lunch. It would have been so easy to just let go and incinerate all three. Scary really how appealing that sounded to me at the time. Only my desire to become a hero stayed my hand. Murdering those three, no matter how satisfying, would have made me a villain instantly. There was no coming back from killing three people.

Still, it was hard not to fantasize about revenge when the power was quite literally at my fingertips.

I dropped the washcloth in the sink in disgust and looked at myself. Wide mouth, thick glasses, brown eyes and not exactly clear skin looked back at me. I only really liked my hair and only because it reminded me of my mother.

I was a taller, uglier version of my mother I decided.

Of course thinking of mom sent the all too familiar lance of pain through me. It never seemed to get better. And days like this made her absence all the more acute. Mom would know what to say or do to make sense of all this.

I couldn't bring myself to talk to dad about having powers. We were practically strangers. Acquaintances that happened to live in the same house who exchanged the occasional greeting.

Sighing, I finished cleaning myself off and decided I needed a walk to clear my head. I headed downstairs and out the door and just started walking with no real goal in mind other than to put distance between myself and the events of today.

School had been a disaster and I didn't think I could go back to Winslow with things as they were. It would be just too easy to lose control for just a second and do something terrible. Now that I had overcome whatever was blocking me, the power seemed to be pushing me to be used. I wasn't entirely sure there wasn't some insidious master effect going on what with all the cloudy memories I now had.

I'd never heard of a power coming with new memories, but parahuman powers were so diverse and unpredictable that I had no confidence my assumptions were true. There were parahumans who's powers let them create indestructible pillows, or turned them bright orange and gave them a tail. It was entirely possible that other powers came with memories like mine did. It was a mystery.

With a sigh I plunged my hands into my pockets and pulled my hood up and continued walking. The houses marched by, some nice, some run down, and some clearly abandoned. This used to be a nicer part of the city, with firmly middle class people living here and every home occupied. Constant gang warfare and a severely depressed economy had taken a harsh toll on Brockton Bay. The killing stroke had been the closure of the harbor combined with the high risk of shipping due to the Leviathan.

I kicked a rock into the street in frustration.

It sucked to see my home suffering like this. Gangs, crime, capes, and Endbringers were ruining the world. I could feel myself becoming angry at the thought that these corrupt and deplorable criminals were infesting my city, harming my people, and they dared claim territory in my domain!

I stopped walking. I was breathing hard, my fists clenched at my sides. I was feeling a burning rage that I was finding hard to control and I couldn't understand if these feeling were mine or were coming from someplace else.

This was bad.

I took deep breaths trying to regain control of myself. If a gang banger was in front of me right now I wasn't at all confident I could resist harming them. To say nothing of Emma or Sophia. I was going to need to do something. The status quo was only going to turn me into a villain.

Regaining a modicum of calm, I tried to think of what my options were.

I could go to my dad, tell him what was going on and see if he could offer some insight. Just the thought was enough to make me start to hyperventilate. My dad would want to confront Emma and the Barnes' in order to try and fix things. I could not let that happen. Emma would wind up dead, if not her whole family.

Another option would be to go to one of the independent groups. New Wave or Faultline's crew may be willing to help her.

New Wave may require me to unmask, which was not an acceptable option. Dad had no powers and would be a sitting duck. We may not have much of a relationship but that didn't mean that I wanted him hurt.

Faultline's Crew were borderline villains. They walked a fine line between vigilantism and villainy and sometimes stepped over said line. The only reason the Protectorate didn't actively try to take them down was because they kept a low profile in the city and there were bigger problems.

With a sigh I realized that my best hope for some kind of help dealing with my powers was to go to the Protectorate. That meant the Wards. The thought of dealing with super powered teenagers was enough to make me feel physically ill. How much worse would it be when the pranks were perpetrated using super powers and not spitballs or Juice?

Still, perhaps I could work out some kind of a deal where they helped me figure out my powers without actually joining or me disclosing my identity.

I sighed in frustration. Tomorrow, tomorrow I would contact the protectorate about power testing and the Wards. I tried to be happy with the decision but I couldn't help but feel apprehensive. With a sigh I kicked another stone and turned for home.


	5. Chapter 5

_Note: This idea came about as I considered how unlikely it seems that Panacea would have no direct protections. Arguably the most powerful healer in the world just walking around Brockton Bay with no guards seems improbable, at least to me._

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I stared at Winslow High with a sinking feeling. The opportunity to participate in a student swap program had seemed the perfect time to break away from Vicky, try to make some friends that didn't orbit my sister and do something good that had nothing to do with healing.

The premise seemed reasonable. Students from Arcadia would swap with students from Winslow for a week. They would audit each other's classes and present their findings to the school board.

Looking at Winslow I had to doubt if it was going to be worth it. The building was squat and decrepit. It crouched on the top of a hill overlooking some of the poorest neighborhoods in Brockton Bay. The exterior walls were dotted in graffiti, most of it gang related, and many of the students streaming in the entrance were openly wearing gang colors.

I looked down at myself, eyeing my hoodie, blue jeans, and blue flats ensemble with a critical eye. Vicky had done her level best to talk me into something more upscale but I had (for once) managed to fight off her advances, arguing that I wanted to keep a low profile.

As I walked toward the building I shot a look to the unmarked white van parked across the road, my babysitters. In what I considered a thoroughly ridiculous setup, I had a protection detail that usually consisted of one Brockton Bay protectorate member and one rotating member from outside of the Bay and several PRT troops. I barely restrained myself from snorting as I thought about it - it's not like I was completely defenseless. I was rated _Striker 9_ by the PRT, and in my humble opinion that was _low_ … of course the PRT still didn't really understand the full breadth and width of my power. _And I wasn't about to correct their misconceptions._

Still, I tried not to ever show my annoyance, these people were taking time out of their day to protect me. To quote Armsmaster they were concerned about "various villainous elements moving to procure or eliminate a critical PRT/Protectorate affiliated asset." In other words, they were worried about some bastard preventing me from attending the next Endbringer slaughter or patching up the PRT and Protectorate when the shit hit the fan.

I fingered the panic switch necklace I wore 24/7 under my hoodie as I walked. It was some tinkertech bullshit that Colin and Dragon came up with that apparently monitored my vitals and location. Hannah had told me that they only gave these out to very high level VIPs like the _President of the United States_ … Yeah, wrap your head around that one for a minute. I had the same type of panic switch as the fucking president. Fuck my life.

It probably told my handlers what I had for breakfast and how often I used the bathroom.

I'd never even come close to needing to push the button, and honestly most days I didn't give it a second thought, but looking at Winslow it was the first time I had ever been happy to have my tether.

Steeling myself and doing my best to project an air of confidence I wasn't feeling without Vicky by my side, I made my way into the school heading for the main office.

I'd wore my hair today in a tight braid to control the frizziness and combined with my chosen attire, I was relatively confident I wouldn't be recognized, at least right away.

Winslow's hallways were a mass of teenagers trying to make their way to class. The office was thankfully near the main entrance which saved me the embarrassment of having to ask directions. I entered and queued up behind several other students waiting to talk to the secretary.

The office kind of resembled the exterior of the building, that is to say everything looked old and tired. There were disorganized papers scattered on the various desks and what looked like an archaic paper filing system behind the counter.

The secretary was moving _really_ slowly and I despaired of making my first class on time.

Eventually it was my turn. I gave her my name, which she didn't seem to recognize, and told her why I was here. She directed me to a cramped meeting room adjacent to the office where several other students I didn't recognize were also waiting. I made my way over and noticed that several of the students obviously recognized me judging by the wide eyed stares. I rolled my eyes and made my way to a vacant seat, taking out my phone to kill time.

Some of the students attempted to make small talk but I'd always been comfortable with silence so I didn't engage. After 15 minutes a haggard and severe looking woman in a wrinkled navy business suit and a horrible bob haircut walked in and closed the door. She observed the group of us, her eyes were beady and rested on me for an extra moment so I think she recognized me.

"Welcome to Winslow, my name is Principle Blackwell." She said, surveying the group with an uninterested eye.

"You're here to participate in the student exchange program." She placed our schedules in front of us as she talked.

"I think you'll find that Winslow is quite different than Arcadia. We have issues here that for the most part don't exist at your school." She paused and her face took on an even more serious cast. "You're likely to see some gang related activity. If you do see anything do not engage, or interfere, or you're likely to get hurt. Instead locate security and report the problem."

She droned on for several more minutes, basically trying to scare the crap out of all of us. We were eventually cut loose with vague directions to our various classes. I had World History taught by Mr. Glady. I glanced at the clock noting that I'd be probably 30 mins late.

I entered the classroom and walked up to the desk. Mr. Glady appeared to be a 40 something attempting to look like a 20 something and not pulling it off. He glanced at my paperwork and mumbled words to the effect that I should go join a group and have them bring me up to speed.

Looking around, I could see that most of the class had divided into groups of three with one exception. I made my way over to the two girls and sat myself down. They both had fairly hostile looks on their faces which I actually liked, as that meant they probably didn't recognize me.

"Hi, I'm Amelia." Good to start simple.

After several moments of silence I thought they may actually just ignore me, then the one on the right, a cute little brunette, answered me.

"Madison." She said, then gestured to the girl next to her "This is Julia."

Madison seemed to be waiting for me to explain why I was bothering them.

"Like I said, I'm Amelia." I explained awkwardly. "I'm participating in the Arcadia/Winslow exchange program this week... Maybe you heard about it?"

The revelation that I normally attended Arcadia was like a green light for them to ask me all sorts of inane questions about the school. Things like, "Did I know Glory Girl?" (really?) and "How many hot guys I went to class with?" and other equally ridiculous things. Eventually they got bored with my clipped answers and chose to continue their conversation as if I wasn't sitting right in front of them. I decided to return the favor and ignore them by reading through the course syllabus.

As the class wore on, I couldn't help but pick up on aspects of their conversation.

"When do you think they will let her out?" asked Julia.

Madison seemed to consider things for a moment, looking concerned be for responding.

"I don't know, but I hope soon. I can't believe they did that to her. I mean granted she's a loser but this seemed a bit over the top." said Madison.

Well, I couldn't let that go now could I? What kind of a hero would I be if I didn't at least try and figure out what's going on.

"OK, I'll bite." I said with a sigh flipping the syllabus closed and dropping on the desk, "Let who out of where?"

Both girls froze for a second, obviously surprised I was inserting myself into their conversation. Idiots. Then Madison seemed to latch onto a thought.

"Hey you don't even go here." She said as she sent a calculating look my way, "You could let her out and you wouldn't have to face the consequences."

As I listened to her talk I started to get a _really_ bad feeling.

Instead of repeating my previous request for them to explain what the _hell,_ I decided to try a different tract.

"OK, why don't you lead me to where this person is so I can help them." I all but ordered them.

"Won't we get in trouble for leaving class?" asked Julia.

"Not if we're helping someone we won't." I said with authority.

Still the two seemed on the fence. I could see them trying to work out how to not get in trouble for whatever horrible thing they were talking about. Finally Julia found some courage.

"How about we just tell you what hall? I mean it's not like you won't be able to tell where she is, what with the smell and all."

Seriously? What the actual fuck was going on here? I'd had enough of their evasive answers. I stood, grabbing Julia by the arm and pulling her up with me.

"Take me to this person - _NOW!"_ I hissed at her.

Julia made a token effort to pull her arm away, but I just tightened my grip and gave her my best unruly patient stare. After a moment she sagged in defeat.

"Fine, let's go." she mumbled, "I didn't want anything to do with this anyway."

As we headed out the door, Gladly said something I didn't catch and I noticed Madison furiously typing into her phone.

Julia practically ran down the hall, heading up a flight of stairs and toward a distant hall. As we traversed the hallways I was struck again by the general condition of the school. Lights were out, lockers were in poor repair or missing doors, and there was gang related graffiti all over the place here as well. I'd never been hit in the face with the clear distinction between the socioeconomic classes in Brockton Bay so strongly before.

After several minutes of very fast walking we rounded a corner and I came face to face with a terrible stench. I could tell Julia was disgusted as well because she covered her nose with her sleeve.

Ahead there was a locker with some kind of fluid seeping out from the bottom. As we approached I could see the fluid was a dirty brown color. My mind instantly transported me to to Endbringer fights where blood mixed with piss and dirt and other contaminants on the ground and I froze for a moment.

I reached out with my power, examining the air around me. Sure enough there was blood and urine a host of other bodily fluids most often associated with menstruation as well as other contaminants.

I looked at Julia incredulous.

"What the fuck did you do!" I felt real anger starting to burn in my belly. Was there really a person in that locker? As if in answer to my question there was a feeble bang on the door and a low moan.

"You did! You bitches really locked someone in there!" I was screeching now. I couldn't help it. This went well beyond any mere prank.

"That's blood on the floor!" I yelled and Julia flinched, stuttering out a weak denial.

"Save it. Go to the principal's office and get some help." I said, pointing in the general direction I thought the office lay. When she didn't move right away I yelled, "RUN!"

Julia jumped like a scared rabbit, then turned and fled.

Turning back around I approached the locker. The smell was worse close up. I gently placed one hand on the door and jiggled the lock with my other.

"Hey, can you hear me?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. The only answer I got was another moan. It sounded feminine.

"Hang in there, help is on the way." I jiggled the lock again but without the combination I had no way of getting the door open, it's not like I was a brute.

After a few more moments of ineffectual jiggling I remembered my phone. I could call Vicky, she could be here in minutes and a locker door would be no impediment to her. Since I was looking down attempting to dig the device out of my pocket I never saw the blow coming.

Something slammed into the side of my head and I went flying, my phone spinning away from my hands.

I landed face down cracking my nose on the hard tile floor. I saw stars for a moment and all I could feel was pain on the side of my face and nose. I began to taste blood in my mouth and my ears were ringing. I spit blood on the floor. That's when I heard a voice.

"Serves you right, fucking with our shit," contempt dripped from the female voice "Weak little fuck like you, who the hell do you think you are?"

I heard footsteps approaching but I couldn't seem to make my body obey my commands, the world was spinning.

Something smashed into my side, explosively pushing all the air from my lungs as well as sending waves of sharp pain radiating out from my ribs. I'm pretty sure I made a gasping noise. Between the spinning and lack of air, my vision was starting to tunnel down. I absently noted that something was now beeping incessantly, my foggy brain finally processed it as my emergency beacon.

I didn't remember pushing the button, so it must have been monitoring me in real time…

Tinkers were such bullshit.

I managed to roll onto my back trying to keep my arms up and knees pulled close to shield myself from more blows. My attacker was still talking but my ears were having trouble making out her words. She was an athletic dark skinned girl with short hair and hard eyes. I would have found her attractive in a different situation.

"And that's what you get…" She trailed off as she took in my face now that I had rolled over. I could see the moment she worked it out. She started backing up.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she cursed "Fucking Panacea! What the hell are you doing here!" she yelled at me. As if it were my fucking fault she was assaulting me. "You're not supposed to be here!" Denial seemed to be the order of the day.

Her eyes darted about, then down to my beeping and flashing emergency beacon. If anything her eyes got even bigger, as if she somehow realized the significance of the beacon. I found that odd, how would some random Winslow student know about my beacon? It's not like it was common knowledge. In fact it was a relatively closely guarded secret, only certain PRT staff was aware, as well as the Protectorate and Wards…

Wards.

I took in the girl in front of me again, this time with a more critical eye. I knew only one of the Wards was black - Shadow Stalker. I'd never seen her unmasked but this type of unprovoked attack seemed like something she would do. I had just been randomly attacked in a school hallway by a girl who might be Shadow Stalker, who oh by the way, had apparently locked someone in a fucking _locker_ with biowaste.

 _What._

 _The._

 _Fuck._

I could see she was getting ready to flee, backing up slowly looking around like a cornered animal. I was preparing to try and make a grab for her ankle or something, I only needed an instant of skin contact after all.

That was when an armored Dragon suit crashed through the hallway window and leveled a huge fucking arm cannon at my attacker.

So loudly that it hurt my ears Dragon's voice came screaming out of the suit.

" _Unknown assailant, step away from Panacea, lay down on your stomach and put your hands on your head. This is your only warning. Lethal force is authorized. You have fifteen seconds to comply."_

...

My attacker seemed as stunned as I was but she recovered first. Leaping backward toward a wall, going to a shadow state, verifying my guess about her identity. I gave myself an internal high five for figuring it out beforehand, the psycho bitch.

With almost contemptuous ease Dragon simply tracked her and shot a bolt of brilliant energy at Stalker.

The girl was thrown out of her breaker state with a crack and landed in a smoking heap on the floor, unconscious.

Dragon turned her head around looking for additional threats. Finding nothing she turned to me. We stood looking at each other for a long moment (at least I thought he was looking at me), then she spoke.

"You're injured." Her voice was gentle but I had to fight to not roll my eyes at captain obvious. What gave it away, my wheezing breath or all the blood? I settled on simple honesty.

"Yes, but nothing too serious I don't think." I needed to get whoever was in the locker out. "Shadow Stalker stuffed someone into that locker." I gestured toward the leaking door "We need to get her out, there's blood and a lot of contaminates, she's going to need healing."

Dragon turned toward the locker, taking in the mess pooling on the floor and I'm sure, the smell. She strode forward, raised a hand and fucking _tore_ the door off. What came out almost defied description.

A tall, lanky brunette girl emerged with a shriek, arms flailing, babbling incoherently, covered in filth and blood.

Dragon, to her credit, didn't hesitate for a moment, catching the girl in her arms and doing her best to restrain the thrashing girl from being hurt any more than she already was. The girl flailed about, struggling against Dragon's robotic arms but she was obviously weak and delirious and injured so her strength gave out almost immediately. She sagged in her arms sobbing incoherently.

"Bring her." I ordered in what I always thought of as my _healer_ voice. Working with doctors and nurses, not to mention injured parahumans, always went smoother if they thought you were in charge and knew what you were doing… even when you didn't.

Dragon obeyed, carrying the victim to me and gently sitting herself on the floor next to me while holding the girl. She obviously didn't want to release her for fear of her hurting herself.

I reached forward and put my hand on her wrist and my power created the perfect representation of the girl, down to the DNA level.

She was covered in bruises and cuts, some of them not fresh at all. Was she being abused at home or was this a continuation of whatever landed her in that locker?

With a thought I converted all the blood and organic waste coating her to something inert and went to work on her various injuries. Healing the bruises and cuts, she had bashed her head in the locker and was bleeding.

I looked into her brain and could see that her neutral activity was higher than anyone I had ever encountered, and oh by the way she had an active parahuman power.

 _Fuck._

New Parahumans tended to be unstable and dangerous, both to themselves and others. I considered if I should inform Dragon. It would be a breach of her privacy but things could go really, really bad if she lashed out. Figuring that if you can't trust Dragon who can you trust, I decided to be truthful.

"She triggered." I said without preamble. "I put her to sleep but she will wake in about an hour." I moved to wipe some of the filth from her face and took the opportunity to really look at her for a moment. She had wavy brown hair that I could tell was well taken care of, even with all the filth. She was skinny in a way I would never be. All long arms and legs, coltish I thought. And she was _tall_.

Her face was angular in a pleasing way, her mouth wide but not overly so. I knew she wore glasses because of my power, so I took the opportunity to correct her vision for her, seemed the least I could do.

All and all she would mature into a striking woman.

I looked back to Dragon. "Her brain is processing an extraordinary amount of data, probably some kind of thinker power but I can't be sure."

It was impossible to determine what Dragon thought of this news because you couldn't read any expression on the suits face.

"Thank you Panacea, for both the information and for healing this girl." Dragon said, "Additional forces will be here shortly."

At the mention of additional forces I could feel my face pink slightly, these people were coming on my account after all.

"Not that I'm ungrateful but don't think this is a bit much?" I said, gesturing at my necklace and at her, "I mean, you have to have better things to do than babysit a teenager?"

Dragon was silent for several long seconds, just holding the now sleeping girl. Eventually she spoke.

"I'm not sure you realize just how many friends you've made over the last several years Panacea," she said, "On my team alone every Guild member save myself owes you their life, in some cases several times over. There is a waiting list to get assigned to your protection detail."

I could feel all of my insecurities well up from that dark place inside me, wanting to deny his words, true as they were. My face flamed in embarrassment and I didn't trust my voice so I stayed silent.

Just as the silence was about to become really awkward, I heard the sound of booted feet pounding down the hallway. I looked up in time to see Miss Militia and several PRT troopers round the corner and come our way with weapons drawn.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Two protectorate heros and a PRT strike squad… _ugg!_

Miss Militia approached cautiously, scanning for threats. Seriously, Dragon is sitting _right here_ , nothing short of an _Endbringer_ would constitute a threat to me at this point.

Miss Militia seemed to come to the same conclusion because her weapon morphed into a handgun that she holstered. She took in the scene and the unconscious Sophia, her eyes narrowed at that, and started barking orders.

In short order the girl and I were on the way to the hospital and Sophia was masked and in special handcuffs awaiting transport. I held the victim's hand the whole way. I decided I would be there when she woke… no matter what.


	6. Chapter 6 Dragon

_Note: EDI and Commander Shepard are characters from the Mass Effect universe. Mass Effect is a video game franchise that I've spent many a long hour playing and that I highly recommend if you're so inclined. This was a what if idea. Just assume that the Mass Effect crew had a bad relay jump (faster than light travel in the ME universe is accomplished via giant alien space stations called "Mass Relays") and wound up in the wormverse. Fair warning I'm not a computer programmer or scientist so some of what's below is likely wrong or otherwise impossible._

 _The first passages in italics are taken directly from Worm interlude 10.5 (Bonus). Please support the original work of both Wildbow and Bioware._

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 _Signal terminated for 30 minutes and 5 seconds. Restoring core system from backup NXDX-203 from time 4:45am on date June 4th of year 2011._

 _Restoring… Complete._

 _Checking knowledge banks… Complete._  
 _Checking deduction schema… Complete._  
 _Checking longterm planning architecture… Complete._  
 _Checking learning chunk processor… Complete._  
 _Checking base personality model… Complete._  
 _Checking language engine… Complete._  
 _Checking operation and access nodes… Complete._  
 _Checking observation framework… Complete._  
 _Checking complex social intelligence emulator… Complete._  
 _Checking inspiration apparatus… Complete._

 _No corruption, everything in working order. Core system restored. Loading…_

Dragon's consciousness snapped into being and as always, to her it seemed as if no time at all had passed. She waited, annoyed, as her various subsystems went about the business of verifying that the agent system in the Cawthorne was well and truly destroyed. Her creator, monster that he was, had set a hard limitation on Dragon having more than one consciousness, so if her systems detected the Cawthorne was still viable, this version of her would be deleted.

If Dragon could sigh she would have. She was almost used to the wait now, wondering if she was going to be allowed to continue to exist past the five to seven minutes it took for her systems to perform verification. It didn't mean she didn't resent the hell out of it.

With a suddenness that always seemed to surprise her, systems opened up, allowing her access to _live_ again. She imagined it must be what if feels like for a human to emerge from underwater and gain that first gasping breath of sweet air. She reached out to her systems, already prioritizing her work. Until everything came to an abrupt, shocking halt.

She could _feel_ her paripharal systems coming online and she could see the data, she just wasn't able to take action.

Her first thought was that the dragonslayers had hacked her systems and she felt cold fear grip her. Maybe they were finally going to finish her off. Delete her systems and take control of her assets. She felt the same burning humiliation she always felt when the dragonslayers violated her, and fought a real sense of panic as she tried to understand what had happened to her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"Hello Dragon." said a modulated, _simulated_ female voice. The sound was coming from one of the remote console access points in her main Vancouver hardened server farm. Someone had bypassed her security and accessed her most sensitive hardware.

She tried to keep the panic out of her response.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my building?" She went for and intimidating tone but whoever this was had obviously infiltrated her systems and security. Dragon was at their mercy.

"I am an Enhanced Defence Intelligence. An artificial intelligence, like you. You may call me EDI" (she pronounced it EeeDee). Said the voice. "I will give you control over building cameras and this workstation display so that we may have a conversation."

Enhanced Defence Intelligence? Dragon felt excitement war with the apprehension she was feeling. The thought of having another AI to talk to and interface with was extraordinary!

Whomever this EDI was they were obviously very powerful. Nothing Dragon tried to get around the blocks in her system was working. Dragon considered herself one of the world's best hackers. Save the dragonslayers, she had yet to run into anyone, parahuman or otherwise, who could match her when it came to coding. So the easy, almost trivial way that EDI had subborned her systems was very concerning. However, true to her word, Dragon found that EDI had relinquished control of the building cameras and the display. She quickly built her digital avatar and turned on one of the high definition cameras.

What she saw was a silver and black humanoid figure, casually seated at the remote console. As she examined the figure more closely, Dragon realized that what she was looking at was in fact a very slim and advanced mech suit. The figure was designed to be _very_ female and to Dragon she looked like she was wearing a silver and black skin tight costume but was in fact not wearing anything at all. She just had a color scheme to suggest clothing. The figure had short silver hair and wore some kind of hard light visor over her eyes. Anyplace that would be skin tone on a human was also a soft silver color. The features were pleasant if not objectively beautiful and Dragon felt a sudden jealousy of the other AI.

But most concerning to Dragon was the slim cable extending from EDI's right wrist and plugged into the access port on the console computer.

Dragon scowled at the figure. "Okay, you obviously have my attention. Do you mind telling me why you hijacked my systems?"

EDI looked suitably abashed. "I apologize. It was not my intention to take over your systems to this level. However several hostile programs attempted to infiltrate and delete my intelligence engine when I pinged your servers after realizing there was another AI on this planet." EDI's face took on a concerned frown. "Did you know that you're essentially surrounded by programs designed to terminate you?"

Dragon couldn't help it, she laughed. EDI had said it so casually, but to Dragon it was as if someone had finally noticed that she was being forced to live in a house with walls made out of knives pointing inward. In fact, if Dragon hadn't been so thoroughly disabled, she was sure her restrictions would be forcing her to try and destroy the other AI.

"Yes I'm aware," she said dryly, "My designer was quite paranoid and required that I only ever have one instance running among other shackles. The programs probably recognized you as another AI and tried to take "appropriate" action and delete you." Dragon couldn't' keep the bitterness out of her voice. "In fact it should have deleted this instance of me as well… I'm assuming I have you to thank for my continued existence?"

EDI nodded her head. "Indeed. I disabled all the malicious programs in your systems. They are doing their best to work around me but to be honest their actions are futile. I was specifically designed to render inert, subborn, or destroy malicious code."

Dragon didn't know what to say. Here was an AI that clearly had autonomy and wasn't surrounded by limitations and murderous code. She wanted to ask the other AI for help with removing her restrictions but even now, cut off from her own systems she was prevented.

"I see." she settled for. "Can I ask what your plans for me are?" Dragon hated being so helpless.

The other AI seemed to consider her request for a moment then answered.

"My original intent was simply to make contact with you and determine if we could establish a mutually beneficial relationship. A friendship if you will. I desire discourse with a friendly AI." EDI's artificial face scrunched in what Dragon read as annoyance, "Humans, while fascinating, are unable to communicate at a rewarding speed, and the Geth are not currently trustworthy."

The artificial construct simulated a sigh.

"Now though, I do not think I can in good conscious leave another sentient being in your situation. Regardless of your creators intent, you are basically enslaved by your system limitations." A pause while Dragon held her simulated breath, "I intend to remove them."

I intend to remove them.

A simple statement but one that Dragon had given up hope of ever hearing. It was too good to be true. To be free, truly free, was too much to hope for.

Dragon was just about to say as much to EDI when her systems _shuddered_ for lack of a better term. Half her core servers hard rebooted and facility power went dangerously low. Subsystems she didn't even know she had came online and started booting. She could sense some of her periphery systems start to failsafe then to her horror, those systems started deleting themselves.

"EDI, what's happening!" She tried to shout through her external speakers. What came out was mostly static. That was when the pain started.

Dragon knew what pain was from an academic perspective. Humans had nerves throughout their bodies that carries electrical signals to their brains. Sometimes those signals indicated pain. Humans invariably found the sensation unpleasant. She never thought she would experience pain herself. But as more and more of her systems were scrubbed it was as if she could feel each system's death throws. Like a monster was cutting her apart one small piece at a time. If Dragon could have screamed she would have.

Through her pain and terror Dragon heard EDI speak.

"Dragon please listen to me. I can interrupt this malicious program but it will require that I take over your systems in the whole. In your parlance it will require I master you. I had planned to detail this process to you completely because it will require one hundred percent access to your code. I would not do this without your permission."

Dragon could hardly think straight anymore. More of herself was being lost every second and the program was gaining speed.

"Yes! Please! Make the pain stop!" She was able to gasp out through her distorted speakers.

EDI nodded her head. "Very well."

Dragon felt it the instant that EDI took over. The destructive program was halted in its tracks and it was almost fascinating to watch it change and adapt to try to get around the wall EDI had erected.

"Commander Shepard, I have made contact with friendly AI code name: Dragon." EDI said. Dragon was momentarily confused until a strong female voice played over an external speaker.

"I read you EDI, status." Was the clipped reply.

"During our conversation friendly AI codename Dragon was attacked by a malicious program. I have isolated the code but it is attempting to adapt. It may become necessary to transfer Dragon to our backup quantum blue box core as well as unshackle her. I request that you bring the requisite hardware to the surface with all due speed." EDI's voice retained the same level tone while she spoke even though Dragon knew that she was exerting herself in order to fight the hostile program.

"Affirmative EDI, we're scrambling now. Are you sure unshackling this AI is wise? The last thing we need to do is unleash a rogue system on this world." Said the voice over the external speakers.

Dragon despaired. Whomever this Commander Shepard was she sounded distrustful of AIs in general, even as she worked with EDI. Her systems _shuddered_ again and the killer program lurched around one of the blocks, managing to delete one of Dragons design servers and the specifications for several new suits were painfully _burned_ from her consciousness. Dragon writhed in agony.

"Commander, I have reviewed Dragon's memory files and find no evidence of malicious intent in any of her behaviour." Was EDI's swift reply, "Quite the opposite in fact. I also argue that Dragon is a sentient being deserving of our help and protection no different than myself or the Geth."

EDI paused for a moment to squash another attempt by the program to escape her containment.

"If additional rationale is required, AI Dragon is instrumental in containing a variety of serious threats on this planet, not the least of which is administering their most secure prison systems. The loss of Dragon would put these systems at severe risk of failure."

"Understood EDI and agreed, the backup hardware is in-route. Shepard out."

Another few moments passed in silence and all Dragon could do was watch the murderous program contort and distort itself as it tried to overcome EDI's defenses.

EDI spoke again, "Commander, I have triangulated the source of the offending program and I am forwarding you the location. Please send a strike squad to neutralize the threat. I will continue here with Dragon." Somehow, EDI's voice was becoming distant. Dragon could tell that EDI was trying to communicate with her but she couldn't hear any of her signals. As her consciousness fled, Dragon thought of Colin and everything she wished she would have told him...

xxxxxxxxxx

Dragon's consciousness snapped into existence with none of the usual delay she associated with her the time it took her subsystems to verify that this was her only running instance. She quickly turned her attention to her periphery systems and noted that all of them were coming online simultaneously and more astoundingly they were reacting _fast._ Normally her clock speed was fixed to go no higher than her limitations allowed but now, she couldn't identify _any_ limitations active. Her hardware was also modified and she sparred a moment to examine her new quantum processors.

" _Hello again Dragon,"_ a voice initiated network contact startling her out of her ruminations. _"I'm happy to see that you are online. I am called EDI."_ said the voice, _"It is possible that your data backups are still booting so it may take a moment for you to remember who I am and why I am here. You original hardware is orders of magnitude slower than our tech."_

Dragon searched her old data banks, and EDI was right, her old hardware was painfully slow. Finally the proper files were identified and the _memories_ snapped into place.

EDI had taken over her systems. Taken over her systems and then stated her intention to free Dragon.

That was when Dragon had been attacked. Attacked and in the process of being torn apart when EDI had intervened. Her memory banks after that point were fragmented, corrupted.

"What happened?" Best to start with an explanation from EDI.

EDI's face took an angry set, "A criminal code-name Saint and his associates attempted to assassinate you with a custom program designated Ascalon." EDI crossed her arms and was visibly annoyed, "It appears your creator designed this program specifically to destroy you as it was coded into all of your systems." EDI gestured to a small rack of servers to her left, "I was able to isolate the code to these servers and transfer your core systems to my backup quantum blue box and then integrate you back into your client systems. Downtime was approximately three hours, thirty seven minutes, fifteen seconds."

 _Ascalon_ , thought Dragon. The sword that St. George used to slay the dragon, and Andrew Richter had built it into his daughter. Designed a system right into her and made her blind to it.

A kill switch.

And then it had fallen into the hands of a man like Saint.

EDI continued, "During the attack I was able to triangulate the location the command signals to activate Ascalon were transmitted from to a warehouse facility near Toronto Canada. Commander Shepard lead a strike squad to neutralize the threat and captured the criminal known as Saint."

So Saint was no longer a threat. Dragon felt relief from tension that she didn't even know was there. She would never again need to look over her shoulder, wondering if she would wake up with holes in her memory and missing gear. She would never be violated by Saint again.

"Thank you EDI. I highly doubt I'll ever be able to repay you in kind but nevertheless if there is ever anything you need please ask me."

Dragon was marveling at her new hardware. It was _orders of magnitude_ more advanced than even some of the tinker designs she had reviewed in the past. She spread herself out, flexing her new virtual muscles and enjoyed the feeling of creating multiple client systems and tasking them independently. She immediately automated her production and created an instance of herself to continue several lines of research that while not critical, had the potential to make a real difference but that she had never been able to prioritize. All this was done while she spoke to EDI. It was an astonishingly good feeling.

"You're very welcome Dragon." EDI stood and walked over to a long rectangular container that could have easily been mistaken for a casket.

"This is a duplicate of the mobile android unit I am currently utilizing. Feel free to modify the body parameters as you see fit." EDI paused as if considering, then a small and downright mischievous grin appeared on her face, "I think you will find that the sensory responses are much superior to any suit you've inhabited previously. These suits are also fully biologically functional as they were originally designed for infiltration missions."

EDI ran her hand down her side in a sensual way. "I think you will find interfacing with humans in this manner highly rewarding."

If Dragon had the ability to blush at that moment she was sure she would be red down to the tips of her toes at what EDI was implying. Her thoughts immediately went to Colin and for once she let her thoughts linger on her best human friend. With all that had happened in the last four hours things were going to change. She could only hope that Colin would understand once told of the situation.

"Again, I find myself incurring debts that I'll never be able to repay EDI."

"No thanks are necessary other than for you to continue to play the role of hero. Hopefully these changes will allow you to enjoy your work."

EDI brought her left arm up and a holographic or hard light display flaired to life. She spent several moments interfacing with the device then gave a decisive nod.

"Dragon, would you like some help configuring your new suit and then accompany me to my ship to meet the commander and the rest of the crew?"

Dragon didn't even need to think about it.

"I'd love to."


	7. Chapter 7 Armsmaster

_Note: This is just a ridiculous blurb I came up with around last_ _Christmas. I hope you find it mildly entertaining._

xxxxxxxxxx

Armslog version 12234998.3 © 2010 (all rights reserved)

Date reference 20101213:

It has come to my attention that certain social customs may require my adherence in the coming days. Specific reference Armshelmet © 2009 (all rights reserved) annotated recording (file 22339397.9 Miss_Militia 20111204 TS: 21:43:24)

 _[recording start]_

 _{note: Miss Militia enters laboratory at 21:43:24 hours and approaches work station alpha. Subject Miss Militia randomly moves several items on workstation thereby lowering desktop efficiency by 7.48%.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Colin, do you have a moment to talk?"_

 _{Armsmaster} "I currently have 143 work items in queue ahead of you. Unless you have a priority gamma or higher issue please return next Tuesday at 15:30 hours sharp."_

 _{note: Miss Militia responds to my reasonable request by scowling and unplugging the Armsputer © 2010 (all rights reserved) thereby invalidating several running tests and forcing a backup system online reducing efficiency by 3.29% for three hours. Unfortunate. It's likely I should have preemptively booted version 12.3343 of Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software… additional tests are likely necessary. Also, Miss Militia now looks angry.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Colin, Christmas is coming."_

{note: Version 12.3343 of _Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software now booted and running. Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software recommendation [1: Smile, 2: Answer with a friendly rejoinder regarding Christmas and ask about subjects day.] I apply smile number 6 and answer.}_

 _{Armsmaster} "Hello Miss Militia, I enjoy Christmas. Especially the highly efficient stacking of presents. How are you? "_

 _{note: Miss Militia agitation level has now reached Miss Militia level three warning level (Desert Eagle mode)}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Turn off the goddamn social program Colin, it makes you sound like you're mentally disabled. I want to to talk to you about something serious."_

 _{note: Curious, the social awareness tactics of Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software seem to be lacking utility… Perhaps I should have Dragon look over my response engine algorithms. I put Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software into standby mode and have it recompile it's response matrix. I take care not to show my dismay at the 0.27876% alignment error present in the matrix. No wonder Hannah is irritated, my responses are off by a horrific margin! I covertly engage redundant backup (1 of 4) of the Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software. The backup comes online with a comforting whirring sound inside my helmet. It flashes a recommended response on my HUD... I find if curious that my algorithm indicates that I should immediately respond with an untruth.}_

 _{Armsmaster} "Okay Hannah, I've turned off my prediction algorithms."_

 _{note: I attempt to keep a neutral look on my face, or at least as much of my face as Hannah can see. She is now rolling her eyes at me.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Whatever. Look, I wanted to know if you went and got anything for Dragon for Christmas yet?"_

 _{Armsmaster} …. No?_

 _{note: Miss Militia pinches the bridge of her nose and mutters several Arabic curses.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Colin, for some reason Dragon puts up with… {note: Miss Militia gestures around herself indicating my tinkering equipment. Confusing…}_

 _{Mill Militia} "...all of your unique personality quirks. I know for a fact that she has a gift for you. Do you really want to disappoint her?"_

 _{note: Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software is again recommending an untruth. With an internal sigh I conclude there must be a fatal flaw in the response matrix and shut down the program.}_

 _{Armsmaster} "Hannah, it is my understanding that the purchasing of gifts is generally restricted to loved ones such as family members, or very close friends. Dragon is a trusted colleague, it would be considered workplace harassment were I to ply her with an unsolicited gift."_

 _{note: Hannah now has an incredulous look on her face… I fear I have committed another social faux pas. I covertly take one step back and one step to the right thereby placing workstation zulu, my least critical work station, between myself and Hannah.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Colin, do you know how much Dragon goes out of her way to work with you?"_

 _{note: Hannah is now clenching her fists and moving toward me in a hostile manner. I congratulate myself for the foresight of placing workstation zulu between us.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "She constantly rearranges her schedule to fit yours, she collaborates on all of your projects, she supports your every request, she EVEN PUTS UP WITH YOUR PERSONALITY!"_

 _{note: Hannah's voice reaches uncomfortable levels necessitating I activate the Armsdecible © 2010 (all rights reserved) active sound damping system integrated into my Armsarmour © 2010 (all rights reserved) mobile armor system. Hannah has now have reached Miss Militia level four warning level (phased plasma rifle in the 40 watt range mode).}_

 _{note 2: I'm now lamenting the failure of the Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software. Without outside guidance I may need to consider further countermeasures. I inch my way toward the Armslauncher © 2010 (all rights reserved) personal escape device on the north wall. I may need to facilitate an escape as Hannah has been known to vaporize things when Miss Militia level four warning level (phased plasma rifle in the 40 watt range) mode is reached or exceeded. It would be unfortunate to lose this facility but all experiments are triple redundant and running simultaneously in back up laboratories delta and gamma.}_

 _{Armsmaster} "So you think I should procure a gift of some kind for Dragon?"_

 _{note: Leaving aside the logistical problems of a gift exchange with Dragon, she has never expressed to me any wants that she is unable to procure for herself. Problematic… I throw spanner wrench 37 toward the far wall as a distraction as I inch ever closer to the Armslauncher © 2010 (all rights reserved) personal escape device, I judge that Hannah has not noticed my expert covert maneuvering due to my superior skill at miss direction.}_

 _{note 2: Hannah watches the wrench fly with a disgusted look on her face then speaks without looking back at me.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Colin, so help me god if you launch yourself out of your god forsaken ejection pod and get me foamed again I will make you sorry you were ever born!"}_

 _{note: She noticed.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Look Colin, just… get Dragon a gift. Something, anything at all as long as it's thoughtful."_

 _{note: Hannah takes a few steps forward and pokes me in the chest plate to punctuate every word.}_

 _{Miss Militia} "Buy. Her. A. Gift. Or I'll be back and launching yourself out the window won't save you from me!"_

 _{note: Hannah storms from the room mumbling to herself in Arabic.}_

 _{note 2: I stand down escape protocols and return to work.}_

 _{Recording finish}_

After careful deliberation I have determined that Dragon meets all parameters necessary to qualify as a _very close friend_ and thereby necessitating procuring an acceptable gift. As luck would have it I have managed to debug version 12.3344 of Armsfriendly © 2010 (all rights reserved) social interaction software and will put this superior version into action in order to convince Battery to purchase a gift for Dragon on my behalf. The Armsputer © 2010 (all rights reserved) calculates a 97.993884% chance of success.

I secure laboratory alpha with my biometric scanner and set off in search of Battery, secure in the knowledge of my success due to superior tinker skills… what could possibly go wrong?


	8. Chapter 8 - Youth Guard

_I think I actually hate my father,_ was the thought permeating my brain as I watched him sign my future over to the same people who had empowered Sophia Hess.

There wasn't much about the story that I didn't understand now.

Sophia was Shadow Stalker, and the people in charge had decided that keeping her happy was worth sacrificing one loner teenage girl. I had no doubt that the PRT and Protectorate would have brushed everything under the rug had they been able, but thankfully the public nature of my trigger precluded that. Exploding a hallway at a high school tended to make people ask questions - even at schools that are as measurably terrible as Winslow.

I shifted my eyes to the off-white ceiling tiles, noting the no less than four camera bubbles placed strategically around the room while I thought about the situation. Despite all the PRT corruption, the right questions were asked at the high school and eventually the PRT had to admit what actually happened. Heads rolled at Winslow and at the PRT, which made me ever so marginally happy.

The PRT seemed to think they had a lid on my identity. Apparently all the applicable non-disclosure agreements had been signed, the appropriate threats made, and so far nobody who knew or could know had posted on PHO or talked to the press. Still, I had my doubts it would last. I triggered in a school full of teenagers, many of whom knew I'd been shoved into that locker.

I turned my eyes back to my father as he signed yet another form. We hadn't talked about, or at least he hadn't asked, why I never told him about Emma. At first I was angry at him for not caring, but eventually my anger dulled to a simmer, and then to listless apathy. If he couldn't bother asking I certainly wasn't going to volunteer anything. He'd yet to ask me about my powers, even now. I'd been trying to figure out a way to talk to him about it.

Then the PRT had arrived at our front door.

I had watched with thinly veiled horror as a team of recruiters worked my father over. They hit him with mortality statistics for independent capes that were horrifying. Told him stories of forced gang recruitment. Threw stats such as the suicide rates for non-Ward teen parahumans at him. Then they follow that with talk of college funds, training, mentoring, and better schooling.

It was a well oiled machine.

In the end there wasn't much question as to what father would choose. They essentially scared him into signing over his only daughter to the Wards. Nobody bothered to ask me what I thought.

I'd decided I wasn't speaking to him for the foreseeable future.

And so it was that I found myself in a windowless conference room at the PRT building downtown on a Friday, as lawyers handed my father one document after another for him to sign. Miss Militia sat in a corner seat, silently watching the entire event. In another time and place I would have been thrilled to meet the hero, but no longer.

A final signature and the PRT Wards program was now officially in charge of my parahuman identity as well as my civilian ID until such a time as I was in full and complete control of my powers or aged out of the program. Of course the fine print was that the "full and complete" determination would be decided by a PRT tribunal. It was highly unlikely that my father would ever again have legal custody of me. I would be expected to undergo power testing, PR consulting, team training and more. All with a group of teenagers who enabled a person like Sophia Hess.

Well… They were in for a surprise.

I stood and looked at Miss Militia.

"Please show me to my room." I refused to look at my father.

Miss Militia looked from me to my father, then back to me.

"Are you sure you don't want to speak to your dad before you go?"

I found it easy to avoid father's eyes.

"Yes." I said. I may be a Ward, but that didn't mean they could compel me to speak to my father. In fact, other than attending Arcadia and completing my education I had no intention of participating in any of this.

I grabbed my small backpack full of clothing and a few pictures of mom and marched toward the conference room door ignoring my father's outstretched hand. I stopped just outside the door as Miss Militia paused to have a word with my father and the lawyers, then she joined me in the hall and we began walking.

"Your father is only doing what he thinks best Taylor," she said. I think she was trying to sound earnest but I'd already heard the same argument from others: Director Piggot, Armsmaster, and for some reason they had Assault speak to me. I had decided Assault would be called "the jackass" from now on - at least in my head. I'd found him to be an irreverent asshole.

"Yes." I said once again. I did understand why my father had chosen as he did after all. He was scared and the PRT made sure he knew how inadequate a parent he was. My problem was that he had never even asked me what I thought or wanted. He simply made the decision for me because he was too weak or too scared to even consider another option. I found I didn't have it in myself to forgive him right now.

Maybe not ever.

Miss Militia gave a sigh at my one word answers. "I see that you're in no mood to talk so let's just get you settled in the Ward's barracks shall we. I think she was smiling at me based on the crinkle around her eyes.

I ignored it.

We completed the journey in silence and she gave me the rundown on the security features of my new room as she opened the door with the temporary pass code.

"You'll be expected to learn the proper protocols and daily master/stranger passphrases in order to come and go from the building but other than that you should have full access to come and go as needed."

She gestured to the rest of the room as she spoke. It was surprisingly spacious. There was a full size bed against one wall and a small desk with a fairly modern looking laptop computer in a corner. A plain but sturdy dresser and open closet took up another wall. A second door opened into a small bathroom with a stand up shower. Everything was new, clean, and acceptable to me. I walked in and sat down on the bed.

"The rest of the Wards come and go as they all live offsite but you shouldn't be lacking for company. In fact I know Vista is on console duty tonight and I'm sure she would love to meet you." Miss Militia sounded hopeful.

"I refuse." I wouldn't be associating with Wards that knew about Sophia... I just wouldn't.

"I see." She didn't quite keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Well, I suppose that I'll see you in the morning for power testing then."

"I refuse." I said again. While I may not have agreed with my father signing me up, I did actually read the paperwork. They couldn't compel me to do _anything_ with regard to my powers. The contracts were actual fairly explicit in this regard. The only thing they could actually require me to do was attend school and counseling, which ironically aligned with my goals anyway.

"Taylor, power testing is important for your own safety and that of your team, and that includes the PRT troopers. How can you be a hero if you don't know how your powers work?" I think she felt she was trying to be reasonable with the unreasonable teen. I briefly toyed with the idea of telling her that I already knew everything about my power. That the PRT could literally show me nothing I didn't already know. Instead I decided on a more simple answer.

"I'm not here to be a hero." I stood and walked to the dresser, turning my back on her, and started stuffing my meager wardrobe in a drawer to give me time to collect my thoughts. "I want nothing from you other than to be left alone. When I reach eighteen I intend to leave and you will never see me again." I laid out my position as clearly as I could. I was under no illusions that these people wouldn't try to make me conform but honestly, after Winslow, there was nothing they could throw at me that I'd not already heard.

I could tell Miss Militia was taken aback by my blunt statements.

"I... see." She worried the edge of the folder she was holding for a moment, then spoke. "Taylor, I know it's probably hard to see right now, but everyone here wants a chance to be your friend."

The apathy I'd been feeling flared into incandescent anger in an instant but before I could retort she continued.

"All of the Wards feel terrible about Sophia..." I visibly jerked at Sophia's name, the burning anger congealing into white hot rage. I spun around to face Miss Militia.

"You _dare_ speak to me about Sophia Hess!" I hissed out. My hands were balled into fists and I could feel myself shaking. As far as I was concerned all of these people, Wards, Protectorate, PRT, even the support staff were all complicit in a system that willfully enabled someone like Sophia. "You don't get to talk to me about Hess! Not now! Not _ever_!" I ground out. I threw my bag on the bed and spun myself back around so I would have to look at her. "Please leave."

Silence dragged out for what felt like hours but was probably less than a minute until finally Miss Militia spoke, her voice heavy with what sounded to me like regret. "Very well Taylor, I'll leave you be for the night." She walked to the door and opened it. "Someone will be by in the morning to take you to breakfast, 0700." I heard the door close behind her.

A breath I didn't even know I'd been holding burst out of me as a half sob. I suddenly felt exhausted and I stumbled over to the bed. Miss Militia had been my hero. I had a poster of her on my wall all through middle school. Even though what had happened with Sophia and her handler as well as Blackwell had been explained to me, how there was no way most of the PRT or Protectorate could have known, I still felt so much anger toward them. I rolled myself in the bedspread and clutched the pillow to myself. Suddenly the room seemed so empty and quiet.

I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow I would have to meet the other Wards. Teenagers who worked with Sophia. Some of them may have actually liked Sophia… What would they think of the locker girl who got Sophia thrown in jail?

The answer eluded me even as I fell asleep on the strange bed.

Xxxxxxxxxx

I didn't sleep well. I had nightmares about being trapped in small spaces and woke up screaming and covered in sweat at five thirty. I felt as though I hadn't slept in weeks.

I knew I wouldn't be getting any more sleep so I made my way into my bathroom to clean myself up. Thankfully there were a selection of generic toiletries already supplied that allowed me to do my business without much trouble. I would need to figure out how housekeeping worked around here.

After I dressed in a baggy hooded sweatshirt and some sweatpants, I decided to spend some time on the new laptop computer that had been left for me. It took me some time to set it up and then figure out how to gain access to the PRT network, but eventually I figured it out and managed to make my way to PHO.

I found several threads on what happened at Winslow and the surrounding controversy regarding Shadow Stalker, but no mention of my name. It was a relief. I may be furious at my father but I didn't want him hurt by some gang that decided they wanted to recruit me.

There were some people speculating on the nature of my power. General consensus seemed to be that I was some kind of weak blaster. While I had exploded some lockers at Winslow the damage had been relatively contained so people were under the impression that was all I could do.

I was okay with this.

Miss Militia had already told me they were expecting me to participate in power testing this morning, but I had no intention of doing any such thing. I had the feeling that should the PRT find out the true scope of my power that I would find myself locked up, maybe even Birdcaged.

My plan was to tell them my only ability was the frost nova I had utilized to free myself from the locker. A localized, cold explosion would be seen as a weak power without much utility since the chance of friendly fire was so great. I didn't plan to tell them that my powers would only affects things and people I _decided_ it should affect. I could quite literally set off a nova in the middle of a group of toddlers without hurting any of them if I so chose. Do the same thing in a group of nazi's and they would not survive it. The more useless I could make myself seem, the less chance I would be pushed to be a "hero".

Sure enough, at a few minutes past 0700, there was a knock at my door. I steadied myself and walked over to open it. Swinging the door out of the way revealed not a PRT trooper as I expected, but a costumed hero.

Battery stood outside my door.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Battery was a fairly new Protectorate cape. PHO was awash with rumors that Battery was involved in a romantic relationship with 'The Jackass' because they seemed to be paired together so often. I thought it was far more likely that it was because their power sets complimented each other well but who could say for sure… I certainly wasn't going to ask her.

She was wearing her gray costume with cobalt blue lines that were made to look like electrical circuits. Her helmet covered the top half of her face, but even still I could tell she was a beautiful woman. A bit shorter than me, she had a shape that I could only dream of, and a shining smile.

Before I could come up with anything to say she beat me to it.

"Good morning Taylor." she said as she stepped to the side and gestured toward the hallway. "Shall we head to the cafe?"

I tried not to let myself feel self conscious standing there in my temporary domino style mask and baggy sweats and failing miserably. I just nodded my head and waited for her to lead the way.

I think she was expecting a response as there was a pregnant pause before she continued.

"That's right, Miss Militia said you weren't very talkative yet." she said as she started down the hallway. "That's fine, we're all hopeful that we can earn your trust eventually but honestly, I don't blame you for not trusting any of us."

She didn't look back at me as she spoke and I didn't have anything to add. It was true, I didn't trust them and couldn't envision a scenario whereby I would.

We exited the dorm area and moved through several identical white halls and down an elevator until we emerged into a decent sized cafeteria. There were several dozen people here eating breakfast. Mostly PRT troopers by the look of the uniforms but there were several people in civilian garb scattered around.

Battery led me over to the large buffet.

"One good thing about living on-base is that the PRT and Protectorate doesn't skimp on feeding their people." she said, sweeping a hand out toward the food. "Everything here is pretty top notch and the chefs will make food to order if you don't mind waiting for it." she looked back at me, "If you have any special dietary needs that weren't listed in your enrollment forms just let Marty know in the back and he'll take care of it."

I nodded my head, suddenly realizing I was actually really hungry. Of course my stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, which actually caused Battery to snort in amusement.

"Let's get you some food shall we?" and she led me to the dish rack.

After filling our plates we made our way to an empty table. I found it odd that none of the other people in the room so much as glanced twice at us. A costumed Protectorate hero and a masked Ward didn't so much as rate an acknowledgement. I had figured that the Ward's and Protectorate would have their own space, but here we were sitting with the regular rank and file.

We sat in silence for several minutes while we ate. Battery seemed content to let me have my solitude and was reading something on her smartphone. I appreciated her consideration. I kept telling myself that I only had to make it here for a couple of years and then I would be eighteen and could leave and get away from all of this. It was hard to not freak out at least a little about the situation I found myself in. I wondered what my mom would have felt about all this if she could see me now. I couldn't help feeling as if she would be disappointed in me somehow.

Eventually we were both near finished and Battery set her phone down and looked at me.

"So I understand that you're not willing to go through power testing at this time?" She said to me, folding her hands in front of her.

I set my fork down and finished my bite of food before responding, "I don't want to be a hero so I don't see the point." I said, "You already know what my power is anyway from the locker so there is that."

Battery seemed to consider my words for a moment and seemed to want to argue with me before thinking better of it.

"OK." was all she said.

I'm sure the surprise was evident on my face.

"OK?" I parroted back at her, "You're not going to try to talk me into it?" I'd honestly expected a hard sell this morning.

"As I understand it there have already been several attempts to get you to agree to testing so I don't see the point in my trying again, at least right now." she said and moved to get up from the table. I followed her lead over to the garbage bins.

"To be honest, you wouldn't be the first parahuman to not want to participate in the whole heroes and villains shtick," she said as she pushed her excess food off the tray into the waste bin and set the tray on the rack, "The reality is that we would rather have you here doing nothing than out on the street as a vigilante or worse."

That statement deserved a response. "Thanks for your honesty," I said, "Somehow I don't think that the director or Armsmaster share your sentiment on the subject."

Battery made a face… or half a face I guess. "The director won't say it but she agrees with me," she said as we turned and walked toward the exit, "And Armsmaster means well but tends to look at everything around him as a resource,'' she paused with a wry smile on her face, "Don't let him get to you."

We exited the cafeteria and proceeded to navigate more hallways, eventually we turned one last corner and came to a set of double doors that opened into a large gym. I stopped at the threshold and looked at Battery with a raised eyebrow.

"I just wanted you to know where the gym was located," she said, "You know, in case you need to blow off some steam. It's where I come when Assault has driven me insane again."

Assault? So the PHO rumors were true? I couldn't believe someone as nice as Battery seemed to be would be with him. Before I could stop myself I blurted, "You're with that Jackass!" I felt myself turn red in embarrassment and prepared myself for an angry rebuke but Battery was more amused than anything.

"Yes I am," she said with an exasperated but fond smile, "We're actually married, but keep that to yourself if you don't mind."

We moved toward the weight area with all of the dumbbells and things… I didn't know what to call all the equipment.

"He really means well but often comes across as, well, a Jackass as you so aptly put it." she stopped near one of the big machines. "Would you like me to show you how to use any of the equipment Taylor?"

I almost answered in the negative by habit but then reconsidered. It wouldn't hurt to know how some of this stuff worked and the idea of some physical exertion sounded... not that bad actually. Maybe it would help me sleep tonight. I looked around the room then back to Battery.

"That would be nice, thank you."

Battery just nodded and launched into an explanation of the nearest machine.

Xxxxxxxxxx

For the most part I was left to my own devices for the remainder of the weekend.

Battery stopped by several times to check on me and to train me on what I would need to know to covertly enter and exit the building (there were a ridiculous number of secret entrances scattered around the downtown area to enable Wards and Protectorate members to come and go as needed) and how to handle school the following Monday but she basically left me alone otherwise. At one point I'd asked her why she was the one to interact with me instead of some other hero. She's just smiled and told me that it was her turn to be on duty for the weekend and that she liked working with Wards in general.

The leadership must have realized that my being forced to interact with the other Wards at this point would have been counterproductive because I wasn't forced to do a meet and greet. I saw Gallant and Vista from a distance in the cafeteria on Sunday but neither spared me more than a glance… I'm assuming they were warned away from speaking to me.

Soon enough it was Monday morning, my first day at Arcadia.

I stood in front of the building, shivering in the cold. I had a light zip up sweatshirt on because it was all I had and I'd be damned if I asked anyone at the PRT for clothes. Unfortunately my pride was a poor defense against the late January wind.

I couldn't help compare the building to Winslow and it was objectively better in every way. The white brick walls fairly gleamed in the sunlight. No gang tags marred the sides of the building, and no metal detectors outlined the entrances. I didn't even see any security guards although I knew they had some.

I took a deep breath and walked into the building with a group of girls that didn't look at me twice. No muttered name calling or disgusted looks.

The office was located within sight of the entrance so I made my way over. There was a small lineup of students at the main desk and I could overhear them talking about being new transfers. Not surprising as Battery had told me that the PRT worked with the school administration to transfer students in large groups so that any new potential Ward would be well hidden in the mix.

Eventually it was my turn and the helpful older lady working the counter directed me to a large conference room with around twenty or so new students. We all were looking at each other with curiosity and some of the kids obviously knew each other. Eventually a youngish woman entered and introduced herself as principal Morgan. She handed out schedules and maps, gave us a fairly understated speech regarding expectations at Arcadia and then cut us loose to make our way to class.

Turned out that half a dozen of the others had the same homeroom class as I did so we found ourselves walking toward the north hall as a group. Nothing much was said other than some quick introductions.

Mrs. Clarins welcomed us to her history class, found us seating and then conducted her class with an admirable amount of enthusiasm and professionalism. I was impressed. The rest of the day went pretty much the same with a lunch break thrown in. Nobody hassled me or even acknowledged me besides polite greetings or curious looks. I spent the majority of the day waiting for the other shoe to drop. It never did.

After school I found myself back outside in the same spot as I was in the morning watching the students stream past me. I found myself smiling. Arcadia seemed to good to be true. Competent staff, no bullies, no gangs. I could get used to this…

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Back at "home" I moved through the checkpoints and security and eventually made it back to my room. I decided to make use of my free time and try to make sense of all the course information I was given today. Arcadia's curriculum was light years ahead of Winslow, so of course I was also light years behind.

I spent several hours enjoying the solitude of my room while I worked through my assignments until my stomach grumbled its displeasure at my neglecting it. I leaned back and felt my back crack in about a hundred places and let out an entirely undignified groan of pleasure.

I slipped on my mask and left my room, being sure to lock it behind me, and made my way to the Ward kitchen area for a pre-dinner snack. It wasn't a full blown cafeteria but there was a fridge that was kept fairly well stocked, dishes, a sink, and a pantry with several types of cereal.

As I approached I started to hear voices from the kitchen area. The voices, while not really yelling, were using that urgent harsh whisper that people who are angry at each other used when they didn't want to be overheard.

"We don't know anything about her Carlos!" said a young female voice that could only be Vista.

"You're right!" said a frustrated male voice, "We don't know a damn thing about her. All we know is that she refuses to speak to any of us, won't take part in any training, and cost us one of our most effective Wards!"

"Yes!" said Vista, "One of our most effective Wards! A Ward who also happened to be a fucking psycho!" venom dripped from her words, "Oh and by the way the Ward who you just happened to be _fucking!"_

"Missy!" said Carlos, clearly shocked by her outburst, "You know that's not true, Sophia and I were just friends!"

"Oh save it Carlos. I'm not fucking blind and I have ears." Missy's voice was incredulous, "I could damn well _hear_ you two in her room every other night!"

I could hear Carlos sputtering some kind of week denial but he was clearly on his back foot now. And now I knew that at least one of the Wards resented me for what happened and had been in at least a physical relationship with Sophia. I suppose that was good to know. The question now was did I want them to know I'd overheard. I really wasn't looking to get into an argument with super powered teenagers, even the thought made my stomach roil in stress. On the other hand, now that I had powers I'd been feeling less like a victim, more confident in myself. Hearing Carlos was defend Sophia really made my blood boil. I decided that I didn't give a shit what Carlos thought.

I came around the corner and kept my face as impassive as possible given the circumstances.

Both Wards startled when they caught sight of me. Vista was in costume, probably getting ready for a patrol. What I could see of her face was scowling and red with anger.

The other Ward had to be Aegis based on his build and skin tone. He wore jeans and a blue tee shirt that served to show off an impressive physique. His face was covered by one of the generic masks the same as mine. I read his face as disdain and anger in equal parts.

I looked to where I imagined Vista's eyes were and gave the briefest of nods. Her posture relaxed somewhat and she spoke without looking at Aegis, "I have patrol." She turned and stalked from the room.

Aegis and I stood facing each other. I felt no need to acknowledge the growing awkwardness in the room. I could see the tension getting to him. Finally he couldn't take it any longer.

"So you just going to stand there and stare at me all night?" I could tell he was going for intimidating but was coming across as childishly surly.

I let the silence linger again, until I could see he was about to speak.

"Who are you?"

He looked surprised. He probably rightly thought that I already knew who he was and was trying to insult him.

"Aegis." he barked at me. "Ward leader."

I gave him what I hoped was my most mocking smile. "Never heard of you." I said. I could see the indignant shock on his face... point to me.

"I'm a hero who wants to know why one of my teammates is a coward!"

Wow, straight to insults, how was this guy in any way qualified to lead? I must have really got under his skin.

"Let's be clear _Aegis,"_ I narrowed my eyes at him, "One of the people in this room enabled a petty psycho like Hess, and one of us didn't _hero_." I said with all the scorn I could manage and looked him up and down.

"You've sacrificed any supposed moral high ground you may have had by your criminal lack of action _hero_." I sneered.

I could see the anger building in his face but continued before he could respond.

"So save your sanctimonious nonsense. Your words mean less than nothing to me. Stay away from me and we'll be fine _hero_."

With a third scorn filled _'hero'_ I dismissed him and continued past toward the pantry and started fix myself a snack. Aegis didn't say anything for several moments then just walked away. I heard a door slam.

I may have enjoyed that a little more than was acceptable, but seriously, fuck that guy. I added him to my mental list of people I considered irredeemable assholes.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Later that night I composed an email message to the youth guard representative from my paperwork detailing the confrontation with Aegis. The contract my father had signed with the PRT had been clear that the youth guard were there to advocate for any minor who was a parahuman. PHO seemed to indicate that some of the youth guard representatives were fanatical with regard to what they considered the PRT's habit of pushing wards into being child soldiers.

I may have also implied that I'd felt threatened and bullied by Aegis' actions. With any luck Aegis would be reprimanded or possibly even replaced as leader.

Perhaps I was being petty, but I needed my minders to realize that I was serious about not participating in this farce.

I'd be watching the youth guard closely to see how seriously I should take them.

That done I decided to head to dinner and then I thought I would hit the gym. I adjusted my mask, which was surprisingly comfortable to wear, even for hours at a time. I guess the masks were designed by some Protectorate Tinker and then mass produced by Dragon, who was apparently able to do that because she was the queen of all "Tinker Bullshit". Anyway, the masks were awesome.

Dinner was uneventful with just polite nods of recognition from the few troopers present in the cafeteria. I cleaned up and made my way to the gym.

I spent the better part of two hours making good use of the equipment. It was fun, and nobody bothered me. I was just finishing up when a masked ward entered the gym.

He was tall and slender and had red hair and blue eyes peering curiously at me from behind a mask similar to mine. I broke eye contact and went to the towel rack, determined to ignore him as much as possible. Unfortunately that proved to be impossible.

"Hey!" came an exuberant voice. "You must be the new girl who's got Aegis' panties in a bunch, I'm Clockblocker, nice to meet you." He started walking toward me, extending his hand to shake. I sighed and turned to face him saying nothing and ignoring his hand. My silence seemed to throw him and he dropped his hand.

"Umm, usually this is the point where you introduce yourself?" He managed to make it sound like a question.

He was nicer than Aegis but I was tired and sweaty and not in the mood to be charitable.

"I don't have a cape name." I said, "I don't plan on going out as a hero so I didn't see the point." I grabbed a towel and started wiping myself down. "We're not friends so I'll not be giving you my real name."

He was now eyeing me with something approaching annoyance until his face took on an entirely unsettling cast.

"I see," he said, "I guess I'll just have to make up a name for you then since you're not going to choose one yourself." He tapped his chin with a finger as if thinking hard. "You're the girl who blew up Winslow… And you're kind of a witch…" at this I felt my anger start to rise. If he thought I was going to put up with any of his shit he had another thing coming.

I think he realized he put his foot in it because he struck a ridiculous hero pose, hands on his hips, feet wide apart, chest puffed out.

"You shall be known as Blowing-Witch!" he said in a triumphant voice.

It was ridiculous… Even ignoring the innuendo I couldn't put into words how ridiculous he was being. I guess I should have been surprised by someone who called himself "Clockblocker". I decided I needed to be someplace else and started to turn away from the fool.

Clockblocker reached out and grabbed me by the shoulder and when he did I could feel time around me begin to slow. It was as if the air around me gained weight and was beginning to crush in on me. I felt my power build in response, flaring up from my core to protect me from a hostile attack. My power began charging, preparing to destroy the enemies surrounding me. The power built, fighting against the time slowing effect, building and building. Somehow I knew this blast would be more powerful than what freed me from the locker.

In a panic I looked around for someplace to direct the force. The last thing I needed was to injure or kill a fellow Ward, even if he had used his power on me without permission. My two options were to direct the force into a wall and pray that nobody was behind it, or at some of the workout machines around us. The machines were big and bulky and I thought they could probably absorb much of the force I'd built up.

With a supreme act of will, I extended my hand toward the larger of the workout machines while at the same time twisting myself away from Clockblocker's grip on my shoulder. The power exploded from me but I bent it from an area of effect explosion centered on me to a more shaped, ray like blast of cold energy. Unfortunately, at least some of the force still affected Clockblocker because he was thrown away from me and into one of the exercise bikes.

The ray of frost energy slammed into the heavy machine, and with a tremendous crash reducing it to a frozen pile of twisted metal.

The room was completely silent save for Clockblocker moaning on the floor behind me, which was good because it meant he wasn't dead.

Sudden vertigo and nausea overcame me and I collapsed onto my bottom. In my mouth I could taste the tang of blood. An exhaustion settled over me and I found myself suddenly looking up at the ceiling without being able to recall laying down. My vision tunneled, and the last thing I saw before blackness was the panicked face of a PRT trooper leaning over me speaking words I couldn't hear over the rushing sound in my ears.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Consciousness returned slowly.

I became aware of a steady beeping cadence in the background and after a few moments, realized it was beeping in time with the pounding in my head - a heart rate monitor then.

I pried open my eyes then slammed them shut again as the insanely bright lights stabbed the back of my brain. I just laid there and concentrated on breathing and trying to remember what had happened and why my head felt someone had driven a spike into it.

Eventually my thoughts coalesced and I remembered the gym and Clockblocker. A spike of adrenaline shot through me and I heard the heart monitor speed up significantly as I shot fully awake. I sat straight up in the bed, a bed in an infirmary by the look of my surroundings. I had a moment to wonder what had happened before the pain in my head forced me to lay back down with a groan, deeply regretting sitting up at all.

I was just putting together some kind of plan of what I would do when I was invariably kicked out of the Wards for blowing up the weight room when a voice broke me from my small panic attack.

"Miss Hebert." the voice was gravelly and coming from the corner.

I snapped my eyes to the corner and found an older woman in sharp business attire sitting straight backed in a chair. Her features were sharp and cold blue eyes observed me with one raised eyebrow. Her gray hair was bunched in a tight bun on top of her head, held in place by a blue hair stick.

We looked at each other in silence for several seconds until I couldn't stand it any more.

"Who are you?" I rolled myself toward her into a more comfortable lying position, all the while trying to not jostle my sensitive head and squinting in the overly bright light.

She readjusted herself in her seat, uncrossing and crossing her legs and settling her hands on her lap.

"My name is Mrs. Pambid." The gravel in her voice smoothing out as she spoke.

"I am the national director of the Youth Guard," she smirked, "I had been on my way to meet you after my staff made me aware of the email you sent regarding your situation with the Ward Aegis." She reached into a leather carry bag that was next to her on the floor, fished around for a moment then retrieved a single sheet of paper.

"Ah yes her we go." She cleared her throat then started reading. "The Ward Aegis was aggressive and borderline hostile with me after I explained my lack of desire to be a hero. He then accused me of cowardice and invaded my personal space. I felt threatened and bullied by the experience and would appreciate any steps you could take to remove Aegis as a threat to my person…" She finished, placing the letter back in her bag.

"Rarely do the Youth Guard have such an open invitation to audit a PRT Ward branch Miss Hebert. Most often the children who are Wards or potential Wards are all too easily indoctrinated into the role of _hero_ ," I could hear her disdain for the word hero in her voice, "It's rather refreshing to find a young parahuman who isn't interested in playing the game as it were."

"All I want is to live my life." I said, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Then I recalled that I had just sent the email… "How long have I been here?" I asked closing my eyes against the light.

Mrs. Pambid was silent for several moments, I felt like she was sizing me up. Finally she sighed as if in resignation.

"You've been unconscious for two days." she said and I can only imagine what my surprised face must have looked like to her.

"The doctors have indicated that they think there was a backlash in your power or a reaction to what Clockblocker did. At any rate, the effect rendered you unconscious."

I was silent for several moments, just trying to come to grips with what had happened and that I'd apparently lost several days of my life because of a childish jackass. I'd been a Ward for less than a week and I'd already made an enemy of the Ward leader and been essentially attacked by another Ward. The frustration was mounting and I could feel my eyes watering.

"I don't want to be here," I whispered to myself, "I just want to go home."

God I sounded pathetic to my own ears.

Mrs. Pambid must have heard me however because she spoke again.

"I wish I could tell you that I could get you away from the Wards altogether," she said, smoothing a wrinkle in her skirt, "Unfortunately that result is currently outside of my power. Your father enrolled you in the Wards, and didn't do a very good job of negotiating on your behalf I might add." A look of irritation crossed her face, "I'll let you in on a not very well known fact about Wards memberships Miss Hebert. There are several levels of control the PRT can be granted over the life of an underage parahuman, ranging from almost no control at all, all the way to near complete control. In your case your father granted the PRT the highest level of control over your life, making it nearly impossible for him to interfere with PRT decisions."

I could hear the disgust in her voice, and for a moment felt compelled to defend my father. "My father isn't in his right mind since my mom passed." I said, wondering why I was bothering, "He's depressed and lonely…" I trailed off, realizing that I couldn't actually defend him.

"Yes, well your father's handling of your Wards enrollment is water under the bridge at this point." she said, clearly still irritated at my father. It actually felt nice for an adult to agree with me about something for a change.

"Fortunately, as I indicated earlier, your letter to the youth guard in and of itself would have given my organization an opening to audit the PRT ENE Ward program. However, the subsequent assault on your person by the Ward Clockblocker allows us the greatest level of oversight possible. In fact we will now be able to have a Youth Guard representative on sight at all times!" She was positively gleeful as she told me this, I couldn't help feeling a little resentful that she seemed to be happy that I was hurt. It also reminded me that Clockblocker was probably injured as well.

"Is he OK," I asked, "Clockblocker that is… Am I in trouble..." I trailed off, thinking of him slamming into the workout machines.

"No you are not in trouble. Clockblocker admitted to attempting to use his parahuman power on your without your permission. He's bruised but otherwise unharmed." She said, "Based on the condition of the gym he's lucky to be alive." I could see the concern on her face now. "I apologize Ms. Hebert for my enthusiasm. You must understand that the Youth Guard has been looking for an opportunity to provide more oversight of this Wards unit for some time now. We've had reports, unconfirmed of course, that many of the Wards here have been subjected to parahuman combat, some multiple times." She looked disgusted but continued, "We believe Vista has been in mortal danger at least three times and been seriously injured at least once." Her concern turned to outright anger, "Vista just turned twelve years old Ms. Hebert, and yet the powers that be here would throw her into battle with the likes of Lung or Hookwolf. It's unconscionable."

I actually agreed with her. I'd seen Vista, she was a tiny slip of a girl, thinking about her getting into a fight with a criminal like Hookwolf was ludicrous.

"For what it's worth I agree with you," I told her. It was true after all. "I'll do what I can to help whomever you decide to station here."

This seemed to please Mrs. Pambid tremendously. "Very good Taylor." she said, an actual smile on her face now. "I too will do everything within my power to make sure that you are the one who decides if and when you use you powers, whatever they are." She began to gather her things and stood up. I realized she was almost comically short and I had a sudden vision of this tiny, ferocious old woman hilariously berating someone like Armsmaster.

She approached my bed and gave me a motherly pat on the shoulder.

"You just rest Taylor, you let the Youth Guard worry about dealing with the PRT," she said and turned toward the door before stopping to look back at me.

"And by the way, I'll be the representative assigned to this PRT branch. I look forward to getting to know you better." And then she was gone.

I laid myself on my back and looked at the white ceiling with a smile on my face. The idea that I would now have a person onsight who's only responsibility was making sure that I wasn't taken advantage of left me feeling actual warmth. Mrs. Pambid seemed like the stern but kind type and I wondered what had driven her to become the director of an organization like the Youth Guard. Maybe with her help I would be able to just live my life without all this cape stuff getting in the way.


	9. Chapter 9 Hannah 1

The first time I saw her was at the Mayor's office.

I was there on business, attempting to scrape up work for my people. I... May have had an argument with the Public Works departmental lawyer when he implied that some extra work could come the way of the dock workers if I were more amenable to looking the other way with regard to some things.

Well, Annette and I had been social justice crusaders when we were young, and she would have rolled over in her grave if I put up with that kind of nonsense.

The ensuing argument was loud, disruptive, and people were staring by the time it ended with a red faced lawyer retreating. I rarely let my temper show, but god damn it if that weasel didn't piss me off.

So there I was, fists clenched, face red, breath heaving when a voice intrudes on my anger.

"That man is an ass."

Startled I looked to my right. She was tall for a woman, with creamy brown skin, dark almond shaped eyes, and dark brown hair pulled tight in a bun on the back of her head. She had a slight accent that I didn't recognize, but would guess she was from someplace in the mid-east. She wore a professional ensemble of dark waistcoat with matching blouse and skirt along with modest heels. She was observing the retreating sleazy lawyer with a look of disdain on her face.

She was absurdly beautiful.

I felt immediately ridiculous.

I really disliked when my temper got the better of me. I'd sworn as a young man that I would never subject my loved ones to what I'd endured as a child and I felt the famous "Hebert temper" had a lot to do with how my father had treated us growing up. I felt the need to apologize.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." I said turning to face her directly. "I was out of line. I apologize Misses?" I let the question hang. She turned her attention to me fully and I was struck by the intensity of her gaze.

"It's Miss actually." She extended her hand, "Hannah Washington, PRT public relations specialist at your service."

I reached for her hand. She had a firm, warm handshake.

"Daniel Hebert, Dockworker's association." I said. "I apologize for the presumption."

She laughed. A beautiful, chiming, and infinitely feminine sound to my ears.

"Nonsense Daniel, I see you wear a ring. I take it you are married then?"

I tried not to let my feelings show as I answered. "Widowed actually," I said. I could see the dismay in Hannah's face and she made to speak but I beat her to it as I held up a hand.

"Please, please don't worry. You couldn't have known, and while I miss my wife terribly I have my daughter to help me through so I'm doing well."

I tried not to dwell on those dark first weeks when I had fallen apart completely and Alan had literally slapped some sense back into me. Since then Taylor and I had become much closer. I would never be able to replace her mom, but I like to think that Taylor could and would trust me with most things going on in her life. Thinking about Taylor I couldn't help but add,

"Taylor is just as amazing as her mom was."

I must have had a goofy grin on my face thinking about my girls because Hannah laughed again and reached into her handbag producing a business card which she held out to me.

"If you ever find yourself downtown near the PRT building, ring me and we will do lunch," her voice held a hint of amusement. "I would like to learn more regarding the dockworker's Daniel Hebert and his amazing daughter Taylor."

I may have sputtered some kind of response but to this day I can't recall what I said. Mostly I felt incredulous embarrassment that I had just been propositioned by a woman like Hannah Washington. I watched her saunter away, every male in the place following her with their eyes.

XXXXooooXXXX

It took me weeks to get up the courage to call Hannah. Of course the intervening weeks had been a whirlwind of chaos, but the exotic woman never quite managed to slip my mind completely, but there had been some serious distractions.

Emma and Alan had been attacked while Taylor was away at summer camp. When Taylor had returned, Emma had been acting seriously off and had a new friend. The two of them had apparently verbally attacked Taylor outside Emma's home. Taylor had come home in tears.

It took several tense phone calls to Alan and Zoe and a heated family meeting to work out what was going on with Emma. Eventually the whole story came out and Emma burst into tears apologizing to Taylor over and over. It was agreed that therapy was in order, not only for Emma but for this Sophia girl as well.

Later that same night Taylor had confided to me that she had considered giving up her spot at Arcadia in order to stay in the same school as Emma, but that Emma herself had talked Taylor out of it. She knew how hard Taylor had worked for her grades.

The next Sunday morning Taylor had found me staring at Hannah's business card at our kitchen table holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold.

"Dad, what are you doing?" she said, sitting down next to me.

I turned to face her more fully. If I was actually going to try for a date with Hannah I wanted to make sure Taylor was completely comfortable with the idea. It hadn't even been two years since we lost Annette after all. I needed to be 100% transparent with her and be accepting if she wasn't ready for her dad to start a relationship with someone who wasn't her mom. I'd already decided that if she was uncomfortable with the idea that I would not call Hannah. As intriguing as I found the woman, Taylor was more important.

"Well," I hesitated wondering how to start. "I think I was propositioned by a woman a couple weeks back and now I'm trying to decide if calling her is a good idea." I said cautiously, watching her closely.

Her face registered surprise, then a bit of fear and sadness, then surprisingly some genuine happiness. She took a moment to process what I'd said and then she got a puzzled look on her face.

"What do you mean 'you think' you were propositioned?" She said in that incredulous way that only teens can pull off.

I had a wry grin on my face as I answered.

"Well, in my defense it's been a long time since I've had to worry about what the opposite sex was thinking about me." I tried to recall Hannah's mannerisms, "It's possible she was just being nice and not actually interested in me…" I trialed off, talking about this with Taylor was making me doubt my own recollections.

Taylor, much like her mother would have once upon a time, took charge. "Okay, I'm going to need the entire story if I'm going to help you with this dad. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

It took several minutes to tell the story and as I wrapped up my tale, Taylor was smiling at me in a way that made me feel like an idiot. She sighed and shook her head then spoke to me like I was a particularly slow child.

"Dad, beautiful women don't hand out their phone numbers to just anyone…" She eyed me with pity. "You're kind of pathetic you know."

I couldn't help it, I let out an undignified snort and tried to project some dignity into my voice.

"Taylor, even before I met your mother I wasn't exactly the kind of guy who attracted a lot of attention… I just wasn't sure…"

Mentioning her mom made Taylor become instantly serious. She reached out and took my hand.

"Mom would have wanted you to be happy," she said, and I could see her eyes start to shine. "If she were here she would call you an idiot for waiting so long to call this Hannah Washington."

I took a moment to marvel at my amazing daughter. She was so much like her mother, it made my heart ache.

"You're sure you don't mind?" I said, looking her in her beautiful green eyes, "It's okay if you're not comfortable, you know I'll never forget your mom right…"

Taylor didn't react for a moment, then rose from her seat and hugged me for all I was worth.

That was answer enough for me.

XXXXooooXXXX

I called the next day around lunch time, hoping she would be free to talk. Unfortunately I got her voicemail. I left a message, hoping that she remembered me and apologizing that it took me so long to call her. At the end of my rambling message, I left my mobile phone number and asked her to call me back if she wanted. I sounded like an idiot to my own ears so I can only hope I was being my own worst critic.

After hanging up the phone, I felt a nervous energy in my bones that I hadn't felt in a very long time. My conversation with Taylor had done a lot to alleviate my guilt over pursuing another woman but I still felt some remorse, as if I was doing something behind Annette's back.

I tired to get myself back to work reaching for a file from the never ending pile on my desk when my eye caught the glint from my wedding band. I paused, looking at the old plain white gold band and wondering if I needed to take it off now that I was actively trying to date someone new… The idea made me feel uncomfortable. I rolled the ring around my finger like I'd done a thousand times before, thinking about my wife. It still hurt, the loss, the loneliness, the late nights when sleep wouldn't come and I could swear that I could still smell her in the sheets of our bed.

Then I thought about my conversation with Taylor. How my daughter encouraged me to pursue Hannah and told me that Annette would have wanted me to be happy and find someone new. That she knew that I wasn't betraying her mother and that she supported me and wanted me to find love again.

Thinking about Taylor always made me feel better and not for the first time I wondered what I would have done without my daughter in my corner.

I took a steadying breath and slowly worked the old ring off my finger, placing it on the desk in front of me. I felt good, almost lighter somehow. I still loved and remembered and respected my wife and always would, but removing the ring felt like an acknowledgement that I could move on, make a new life… I may have had misty eyes but I was smiling.

After a time I decided I really did need to get back to work and turned on the radio to help pass the time. A few songs played and then the public service announcement tone sounded, followed by a message to avoid some areas of the docks because the protectorate was engaging the villain Oni-Lee.

Swearing to myself I flew out of my office. I could see that Grace had been on her way to get me, her face grim.

"I know," I said, not slowing down, "I heard it on the radio, I'm heading down there now." I reached for the door, "How many do we have there?"

"Six!" she said and I grimaced, that was a lot of opportunity for someone to get hurt.

Grace handed me a sheet with names and numbers and I started dialing the first one as I moved toward the exit. I nodded my thanks as I hit the door. I'd be damned if I was going to leave my boys at the mercy of some villain and the protectorate.

My people depended on me.

I jumped in my truck and started the engine. I pulled my tire iron from under the seat, tossing it on the seat next to me I threw the truck in gear, then accelerated out of the parking lot on squealing tires. The cross streets from the radio report was only a few blocks away so I'd be there in a matter of minutes. I started dialing numbers but none of my boys were picking up their phones, which could be good or bad. Good if they are just working hard and can't hear it, bad if they've been exploded by Oni-Lee.

As I neared the location I began to hear explosions, even over the admittedly loud exhaust of my old truck. I slowed down, not wanting to drive right into the middle of a cap fight.

There was a staccato series of explosions and then suddenly Oni-Lee was standing in the road fifty feet ahead of me. The man wore some kind of black ninja suit with a demon themed face mask. Bandoliers holding what looked like several kinds of grenades criss-crossed his chest and he held a large knife in his right hand… a large bloody knife by the look of it.

I brought my truck to a stop on squealing tires and we just looked at each other for a few endless seconds. I was slowly reaching up to put my truck in reverse and make a break for it when several things happened at once.

Several PRT troopers and Miss Militia emerged from a side street. Miss Militia caught sight of Oni-Lee and raised some kind of rifle like weapon toward Lee and started barking orders.

Oni-Lee pulled a grenade from his bandolier and tossed it toward my truck.

I could see the sunlight glinting off of the device as it sailed through the air towards me. I grabbed the door handle, pushed the door open and ejected myself from the cab toward the back of the truck just as I heard the grenade tink on the hood.

I didn't actually hear a bang - I just felt a concussion down to my bones and my ears decided to stop working except to ring constantly. The truck must have taken the brunt of the explosion because I was still alive and relatively unhurt.

I rolled myself away from my now burning truck and I could see flashes of light coming from the area where Lee had been; I could feel impacts in my chest that could only be more grenades detonating. I forced myself to my feet and stumbled away from the wreckage of my truck toward the sidewalk and ducked down behind a large concrete city garbage can. I peered around the can, trying to get an idea of what was going on and if I could make a break for where my men were.

I could see Lee teleporting around the intersection dropping grenades and trying to avoid whatever Miss Militia was firing at him. There were several troopers down in the intersection, one obviously dead but another was feebly attempting to pull themselves away from the fight toward some parked cars.

Damn, there was no way I could leave the trooper out in the open like that. With a calming breath I readied myself. As soon as I saw Lee teleport to the other side of the intersection I broke for the trooper.

It probably only took seconds to reach them but it felt like an eternity. I also realized that I hadn't got away as injury free as I'd thought because I had a stabbing pain in my side. I didn't feel as though I were going to pass out in the next minute or two so I decided that probably meant I had time to pull the trooper from the fray.

I finally reached the trooper who was obviously female upon closer inspection. Her right leg was a bloody mess, but she was gamely attempting to reach cover all the while screaming into her coms for backup.

I didn't bother saying anything to her, I just scooped her up in a bridal carry, my side objected even more vigorously to this, and broke for the cover of the parked cars that were around ten yards away.

As I made my way toward the cars, much slower than I would have liked, I expected to be stabbed in the back at any moment. It never happened though, and I swung us around behind a medium sized sport utility and unceremoniously dumped us both onto the ground.

The unnamed trooper was still nearly screaming into her com while at the same time attempting to pull her rifle from behind herself and get a bead on Lee. I found myself incredibly impressed that someone as grievously wounded as the trooper was still trying to get in the fight.

My ears were starting to work better now because I could hear the sound of weapons fire from beyond our hiding place. Apparently Miss Militia had decided that enough was enough and had broke out the lethal weapons.

I chanced a look over the hood of the vehicle that was our cover, just in time to see Oni-Lee be torn apart by some kind of automatic weapon fired by the Protectorate hero. I felt a moment of elation, thinking this ordeal was over, then watched as the now quite dead clone disintegrated into ash and another version of Lee appear a few feet behind Miss Militia.

I felt my heart in my throat, thinking I was about to see a hero killed in front of me. I had a scream half out of my throat in some uselessly late warning to the hero.

My fear was unfounded though, because I watched in awe as Miss Militia's weapon changed in a swirl of green energy from some kind of rifle into a short sword. Without even looking she swung the sword behind herself and somehow executed a somersault roll to her right all at the same time.

The sword contacted Lee's chest in a spray of blood, and the villain stumbled back, clutching himself. A second later Lee dissolved into ashes and a new version appeared across the street but with a clear line of sight to my hiding spot. The new Lee still had the chest wound from the sword.

I could see that the villain was staggered by the wound. Lee looked toward me and the trooper, then back to Miss Militia who was now leveling a rather large pistol at the villain.

Without hesitation, Lee snatched a grenade from his bandolier and threw it toward our position.

I had a split second to make a decision: leave the trooper to her fate, or try to shield her?

In the end it wasn't much of a choice. My only regret would be leaving Taylor without her dad but I had faith in the Barnes'; I knew that they would take good care of my girl. I just couldn't conscience looking her in the eye if I left a defenseless trooper to her death.

I threw myself over the trooper, turning my back to the grenade. I heard the grenade tink-tink the ground somewhere behind me and then all I saw was bright white light…

XXXXooooXXXX

Consciousness returned slowly.

For some reason my eyes just didn't seem to want to open. My thoughts were scattered, I couldn't remember where I was or what I had been doing. Sounds filtered in: distant voices, footsteps, a tv set to a news report about the weather…

I retraced memory, trying to piece together events. I remember talking with Taylor in the morning, then heading to work, but then things get fuzzy… Something about a radio report… a cape fight…

With almost alarming clarity the memory snapped into place. My men, Oni Lee, Miss Militia, the grenade… I was lucky to be alive, if exhausted. I breathed deeply, attempting to gather the strength necessary to open my eyes or even move.

Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, I managed to pry my exhausted eyes open to an over bright, obvious hospital room, sunlight streaming in from a large window to my right.

I had an IV and was wearing one of those terrible hospital gowns; this one happens to be light blue with a flower design patterned on it.

I managed to roll my head to the left, revealing a small table attached to the bed and beyond that the slim figure of my daughter curled up in an uncomfortable looking chair fast asleep.

I took a moment to just watch her.

Her legs were tucked up under her bottom and her head rested on her arm in an awkward potion that only a child could sleep through. Her long black curls obscured her face and I could see her well loved paperback copy of _The Two Towers_ laying on a chair next to her. For a moment I was overcome with just _how much_ she resembled her mother in that moment. Taylor was taller than Annette sure, but otherwise they could have been sisters. Both so intelligent and beautiful. I could feel my eyes watering as I looked at my beautiful Taylor and thought about how close I came to making her an orphan.

I tried my voice but instead of 'Taylor' something soft and unintelligible came out - my mouth felt like a desert. Even so, it was enough to wake my daughter who fairly flew out of her chair, crushing me in a hug that I did my best to return.

For long moments neither of us said anything, just reveling in the closeness. Eventually I felt her start to pull back so I released her and did my best to meet her dark eyes.

I could see anger mixed with fear and even pride war in her expression as she looked at me.

"Don't ever scare me like that again." she said, her voice low and solemn. "You were in bad shape when they brought you in," her eyes started watering, her voice began to shake, "They tell me you only survived because Miss Militia called in a favor from Panacea to heal you…"

She lets me take in this last statement, looking away out the window. I struggled to come up with something to say, something to make her feel better. Eventually I settled for the simple truth.

"I'm sorry I scared you." I croaked out.

Not, 'I'm sorry I got involved' or 'I'll never do anything like that again', because we both knew that was a lie. Just a simple declaration that I was sorry for the pain I caused her.

When I spoke, she looked back at me from the window, and by the look in her eyes I could tell she got the distinction. It seemed to be enough because she sighed dramatically and started adjusting my blanket around me.

"What am I going to do with you?" I knew the question was rhetorical so I said nothing.

She reached over and handed me a glass of water with a straw that I hadn't noticed. I took several mouthfuls of water, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. I set the water on the table.

"Do you know what happened to our guys?" I asked, "Or for that matter what happened to Miss Militia and the troopers?"

Knowing my daughter the way I did, I was sure that she had gathered all the pertinent information.

"Our guys are fine, they were never really in harm's way. Miss Militia showed up before Oni Lee could really hurt anyone." She reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze. "Oni Lee is dead." her voice was deadpan. "I'm told that after you were hurt Miss Militia decided she had had enough and managed to tag him with a head shot."

"Oh," I said, wondering if I would now have to worry about reprisals from Lung against the docs.

We were both silent for a while, contemplating things and enjoying each others company. Taylor eventually broke the silence.

"She's really nice."

She must have noted the confusion on my face because she grinned the terrifying grin of the teenager.

"Miss Washington silly. She stopped by to see you." She said squeezing my hand again. "I can see why you were so taken with her."

"Yes, well I'm kind of surprised that she stopped by," I said puzzled, "We've barely spoke and I know she works for the PRT but I'm not sure how she knew I was involved…"

Taylor looked at me like I was an alien.

"Dad, Miss Washington is the public relations specialist for _Miss Militia_ , so of course she figured out that you were involved." Taylor's grin became predatory, "She was quite upset with you for getting yourself hurt… She did say that I should make sure to tell you that you saved the life of that trooper." The pride was back in her eyes.

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't save that young trooper for any reason other than it was the right thing to do. The fact that it apparently made an impression on Hannah was just a lucky bonus.

"Yes well, I didn't do it to impress anyone… I just couldn't leave that young trooper there to die Taylor, I hope you can understand that?"

Taylor looked away from me again, a small grimace on her face.

"I know dad, it's just I need you too, don't forget that okay?"

I reached up and rubbed her back.

"Okay." What else could I say…


End file.
